Tales of a Wayward Southerner

by Jenn Deits

“Life is an Adventure or it is nothing at all.”  Helen Keller

I am approaching the last third of my life and I wanted a creative outlet.  I spent close to twenty years of my life teaching middle school.  I felt I could be creative when teaching.  I miss teaching but it was time for me to move on.  

My kids are in their mid-twenties and are happy responsible human beings and basically good people.  Can one hope for much more than that?  They will laugh that I said, “basically.”  They are great people and I am very proud of them.  No one is on drugs or in trouble with the law so I feel pretty blessed.  They would say that is a pretty low standard.

I am not a gifted writer.  I am a pretty good storyteller and I have a wicked sense of humor so let’s see how it goes.

I feel my mamaw would say something like, “who do you think you are writing a blog.”  “Don’t be getting above your raisen.”  Every time I try to write Southern my spell check wants to correct me.  That is annoying.  

I am not sure that I have anything to say that someone would want to read.  I have no plans to publish anything, (I guess a blog is publishing), but I am not writing for profit.  I do think it is a good thing to have a record of your life and to share mistakes and things you have learned along the way.  Maybe a future generation or relatives will at some point find it interesting to read.  Did you see what Grandma or Great Aunt Jen wrote 30 years ago? LOL….

I had to interview someone over 80 for a class I took in Graduate School called, “Civil War and Reconstruction.”  I learned so much about my grandmother and enjoyed the process.  I will not elaborate on the interview because I will spend another entry entirely on my grandmother at some point.

Why did I title it, “Tales of a Wayward Southerner?”  Well, there is a book called, “Confessions of a failed Southern Lady.”  That would have been perfect but it was taken.  I was hiking through a section of the Appalachian Trail in Maine called, “The 100 Mile Wilderness” and the name popped into my head.  I looked up wayward and the dictionary said, “Difficult to control or predict because of unusual behavior.”  That seemed to fit, thus the name.

I am a Southerner being born in Athens, Tennessee.  Most of my extended family including my folks were buried in Riceville, Tn, which only has a blinking yellow light and is just down the road from Athens. I also spent a great deal of my childhood in Atlanta.  So I am maybe 1/2 Tennessean and 1/2 Georgian.

I do not read blogs but I may start to get an idea and insight into what this is all about.  I am a reader.  Lately, I have read a large number of memoirs and biographies.  I think everyone should write something about their life.  My grandmother always kept a journal and I have kept one for many years.  When I was in Washington, D.C. with the eighth grade I loved listening to the recordings of the holocaust survivors at the museum.  

I have had so many opportunities to listen to others’ life stories.  Probably because I tend to ask people I meet about themselves.  My husband says, “There are people who announce who they are and people who ask who you are.”  I try to be the latter.  When I get to know someone a bit, I ask them to tell me about themselves.  I am fascinated by the lives people lived and the events that made them who they are today.

So, I will write.  I have no idea where this will lead but if you happen to come across this blog feel free to leave feedback.  I am a tad sensitive so be gentle.  I was subbing at Franklin High School and a sign says, “Is it Kind?  Does it need to be said?” and “Does it need to be said by me?”  Wow, I could have used that advice about 45 years ago but better late than never.  Most things I have said in believed really needed to be said but possibly not by me.

So I am embarking on another adventure.  We will see how it goes.

“In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing.” 

“A River Runs Through it”, Norman Maclean

He was one of those men whom you introduced as “The man, the myth, the legion.”  When Uncle Jimmy decided to hike Mt. Leconte in the Smoky’s for his 80th birthday, my cousin Chad led the toast with that phrase.

As a kid, my Dad and other uncles called him “Webb.”  I thought he was pretty quiet when I was growing up, but I found out he is quite the talker if you were on a subject he cared about.  He could talk for days about fly fishing, Yellowstone, the environment, the economy, and the mountains.  

When talking with his sons at his funeral, they were telling me how smart he really was.  His dad owned a company called Webb and Sons.  It was a construction company, and he started out as a bricklayer and retired as the primary owner.  

He has always been in my life, but I became closer to him once we moved back to Tennessee from Wisconsin.  We were in Cookeville on Uncle Phil’s houseboat for the day. He was fly fishing off the bank, and I told him I wanted to learn.

The first thing to know is that my uncle, as Seinfeld would say, he is a low talker.  He can be barking instructions, and I could not hear a word he said.  Chad said, “How do you think we felt on construction sites when we were boys.”  Secondly, I had no idea what he was talking about when I could hear him.  “you’re coming back too hard on your back cast.” I thought, ” What the hell does that mean? ”  

I would drive over for the weekend to visit him, and my Aunt Cissy, and he would take me to the Chilhowee Dam to fish.  Where we got off the river was about a mile from where the car would be parked.  Once, two drunk guys were sitting in the truck at the drop-off.  Jimmy caught a ride with one of them back to his truck.  He told me I had to stay with the boat.  He basically left me with the other drunk guy sitting on a picnic table with a six-pack of beer and says, “Be careful.”  I doubt he would have left one of his granddaughters there, but I took no offense.  I think he thought I was pretty tough, and he would be correct.

I would have to stand in the yard under his watchful eye as he critiqued my motion.  Fly fishing is a great sport, and I love it, but it is nothing like putting a worm on a hook and just casting.  It is an art and takes practice, patience, and study.  I have been with him when he pulls a stick out of the water breaks it open to see what kind of larvae is in it so he could see what was hatching.

I think he flew to Yellowstone for about 35 years to fly fish. He decided to take two of his boys and a few grandchildren to Yellowstone.  My cousin Brooke honed in on that trip and road with them.  I said, “I will fly into Bozeman, rent a car and meet you at the campground.” Riding in a van with family across the country is

We were fishing at a river called the Firehouse in Yellowstone and a big storm came up.  We all sat in the big passenger van until it passed.  While it was still raining but didn’t seem as ominous, he said, “Jenn, you get out and get us a good spot!”  Why was I the sacrificial lamb?  That was just the nature of our relationship.

Cousin Chris led us on a hike.  I might add there was no trail and we are having to get over fallen trees and whatnot.  I mentioned that we might need bear spray.  Yellowstone is grizzly country.  He laughs and says, “We would never survive a Grizzly attack anyway.”  Later, I see my cousin Chris’s daughter Camilla with Bear Spray that Uncle Jimmy had rented, and I questioned why she had some.  He responded, “You have lived your life; she is young.”  

The first night in the tents, it rained.  I woke up in the middle of the night, and Brooke was shivering, so I put my down jacket on her.  We also had a small stream running through our tent.  I blamed Cousin Chad because the men had a nice Kelty tent, and we had a twenty years old Eddie Bauer tent that had a leak in it.  Fortunately, cousin Andy was a newlywed and did not want his bride sleeping in a leaky tent, so he dried it out for us.

Later that day, we went to see Old Faithful, and Brooke was at the front desk, booking a room.  She basically stayed there and watched Old Faithful go off while I am in the rain holding a spot on the river so everyone could come out when the rain stopped.

Jimmy drove us around Yellowstone the next day.  He had Macular Degeneration. However, no one seemed to have a problem with him driving.  He ran through a stop sign, later slammed on the brakes, and a couple of cans of spam flew to the front of the van, which woke all of us up. I was terrified of his driving, but I was not going to be the one to question him.

I will say that he was one of the toughest men I have ever known.  After he hiked LeConte for his 80th Birthday. He did it again for his 81st and 82nd.  On the 81 trip, I walked with him the whole way.  It was me and four men.  Jimmy, Chad, Andy, George, Jimmy, Hugh Harris, and I.  What a trip.  Of course, the men flew up the mountain.  I stayed with him the whole time.  People were amazed he was doing it at his advanced age and would stop and talk.   You never knew what he would say to someone.  A man was hiking with a baby on his back, and he said, “I thought that was women’s work.  We should have never given them the right to vote.”

A woman stopped to talk to us, and he first said to her, “Why do you have all those tattoos?”  Fortunately, she was not offended and told us what they all meant.  He told her I was his niece and he had been trying to lose me like a bad cold all day.  She had me take her picture with him.

You could never complain about anything when with him.  He told me to never look up when hiking; take it a step at a time.  A good life lesson!  

When we got to Ice Water Springs shelter, he told me to fix his dinner.  I had not used a dehydrated meal in a while.  It was dark, and I felt a small packet in the meal.  I thought it was a spice packet; however, it was the silicon packet to keep out moisture.  So I poured it into our shared meal.  Of course, he accused me of trying to kill him.

This was a memorable trip.  I don’t even want to talk about the yahoo’s from Illinois who strolled in once we were all in our sleeping bags with a four-year-old, nonetheless.  The kid started eating candy on the top tier of the shelter.  Hugh Harris finally told them they could not keep all that candy in the shelter because of bears.  I was hoping someone would say something.  My thought was that I didn’t have to outrun the bear, but I think I could outrun the four-year-old.

Once we were in our cabin in LeConte, Chris, Jeff, Katie, and Olivia joined us.  Chris said, “Jeff vaped the whole way up.”  Jeff said his trail name was going to be “Darth Vapor.”  Chad said it should be CVS due to all the medication he took.

The next year Uncle Jimmy bought of Cancer and had a feeding tube.  He literally hiked LeConte and would have to stop, hang his bag on a tree, and have a meal.  He made it, along with myself and 13 of my cousins.  The fact that he could do that hike and then sit at the table with us all eating dinner, knowing he could not join in, is just beyond unbelievable.  

I will miss him dearly.  I was the last person to fish with him up in Nantahala.  He finally paid me a compliment.  He said, “My casting looked good.  Now I need to learn about bugs.”  He also told me he loved me when I left.  That was a first.  I am just thankful I was finally back in Tennessee and could spend time with him before he passed.

Last month 23 of his extended family hiked to Leconte in honor of him.  His great-granddaughter Maeven was the youngest and the oldest was his niece Connie.  Thankful that my husband and kids did the hike and got the experience of being with a flawed but loving group of relatives.  We have a saying once you are in, you are in, and when you are out, you are out.  

Good luck, 

In-Laws!

Leconte 2023

Uncle Jimmy East Tennessee

Jimmy, Brooke, and I Yellowstone

For some Thanksgiving is their favorite holiday.  I think if the family is difficult for them a one day meal and visit is all they can take.  I however love Thanksgiving. As I reflect on all the blessings in my life the gratitude pours over.  I remember a time when I first moved back to Tennessee from Wisconsin.  Wisconsin brought some great memories but it was not easy for me.  Remember the movie, “7 Years in Tibet?”  I could write one “8 Years in Wisconsin.”  Anyway, I left and brought the kids back from Tennessee when the house wasn’t even packed.  I was ready to go.  Every day, I drove around Franklin, Tennessee, and just sent praises to God that I was back in the South.  Most Southerners I know have a deep love for the weather, culture, and landscape.  Whenever I am away from a place I love my heart grows fonder.

I have been closer to my Dad’s family over the years, he died when I was nineteen but most of my aunts, uncles, and cousins have gone to my Aunt Cissy’s and Uncle Jimmy’s for Thanksgiving most of my life.  Cissy cooks the Turkey, Uncle Phil brings fried chicken, Uncle Ed brought the ham and the rest of us brought a dish or two.  One of my favorites is cousin Chris’s Tennessee Corn Pone.  It is basically pinto beans with cornbread cooked on top.  With a view of the East Tennessee foothills, a game of bocci or croquet outside was very memorable for me.  

Aunt Cissy gave us each her blackberry jam.  Count on cousin Jeff to be in something interesting.  I think the SpongeBob pajamas were one of my favorites.  Then up to 15 to 25 cousins would go to sleep downstairs by the fire with a football game on.

The first time I brought George, he got a plate and sat at the dining room table.  I said, “What do you think you are doing? This is for the Aunts and Uncles you cannot sit there.”  He promptly moved to one of the card tables set up for the cousins in the dining room.”  

As I have aged people go their own way.  They do have in-laws, people move, divorce, and life takes them in different directions.  Cissy and Jimmy are with the Lord now and Uncle Phil and Aunt Nancy have taken up the mantle of hosting Thanksgiving, the number of people who come has dwindled, not sure how much longer this tradition will last but I am hanging on to those who continue to come.  Change is inevitable but I am thankful for all those years having 30 or so of my family together and the memories I will cherish.  

Jenn Deits

“Be yourself, everyone else is already taken” Oscar Wilde

Upon my arrival in Ireland, “cool and awesome” became “brilliant and lovely.”  The food was excellent, the countryside was lovely, and the people delightful.

Having little interest in big cities and common tourist sites.  I tried to immerse myself in the country and culture.  So, George and I decided to hike the western coast of Ireland.  

There is a trail called the Kerry Camino which is similar to the Camino de Santiago in Spain.  It is a pilgrimage. There are many routes and we choose The Dingle Way.  It is 179Km or 111 Miles.  It follows a route called the Wild Atlantic Way. We choose to walk the trail which goes through hills, mountains, and the beaches.

The trail begins in the high hills.  I have never seen hills and mountains that were covered in grass instead of trees.  Ireland gets a great deal of rain.  I prayed for nice weather and it was terrific.  I only walked one day in rain gear.  It took us 8 days to walk the 114 miles.  We hiked from town to town B&B to B&B.  We walked with two Canadian Brothers one day, and a German couple for 2 days and we continued to run into people we had met earlier days later which was fun.  

I find the Irish culture influence all over the South. We have Irish Folk Music/Bluegrass, Folk Dancing/Clogging, plus everyone is friendly.  I had a few drivers who picked us up in town and drove us to the Inn and everyone waved when they pass.  

The Irish love Garth Brooks-I had no idea.  We arrived in Dingle and the owner of our B@B told us Garth was in town.  I guess he followed me. The town has only about 2,000 residents.  He showed up in a bar that night and played.  Not sure I could name a Garth Brooks song but he played to 200,000 fans one night.  

I found the Irish to have a great sense of humor.  The volunteer coast guard in Dingle wanted to raise money.  They got a large screen and were going to show Jaws  on the water.  They got a lot of locals to volunteer to allow people onto their boats to watch.  They had posters all over town.  However, they found out they did not have the right to show Jaws. (As if Steven Spielberg doesn’t have enough money.)  So people went out onto the water and were shown Moby Dick.  One of the B@B owners thought it that was hilarious that people were out there on the water only to find out they were not watching the blockbuster but a little-watched 2001 version of Moby Dick.

Things I noticed about Ireland.  First, it is very clean.  They are way ahead of the United States in recycling and seem very environmentally conscious.  The paper was asking citizens to cut energy consumption by 20% if possible.  They get their oil from Russia.  I think there would be a revolt if Americans were forced to recycle and cut energy us by 20%.  It is also the third safest country in the world. I rarely even saw a police car.

I would be remiss if I did not talk about the beauty of the countryside.  I must say first, that I really do not desire to see the big cities.  We spent no time in Dublin.  We walked through farms mostly right along with the sheep, cattle, horses, and goats.  There are 3.73 million sheep in Ireland.  On the trails we walked along mountains and hills the farms are separated by rock walls.  There  was a small later for the Pilgrims-those that hike The Dingle Way to cross.  

The West coasts of Ireland are filled with Mountains that give way to the coast.  Both were stunning.  The beaches are not Destin pretty.  The sand is dark and the water cold.  We walked about 14 miles on the beach and I can say I have never been able to sing out loud and know there is no one for miles.  I would pass a few surfers, and in parts a few walkers but it was mostly high dunes and nature.  I could not stop myself from picking up shells.  They were unlike any I had ever seen before.  

After we finished the 8-day hike we decided to park ourselves in Killarney National Park.  I was walking into the park one day.  George got up early and had already left.  I walked with an Irishman and his dog Sam.  His name was Ken and I slowly found out he was a bit of a nut.  After we talked briefly about Ireland.  He thought it was ridiculous how Americans drive all over the country in a week instead of enjoying the park and culture.  I agreed with that because I hate trips where we are trying to do too much in too little time.  Then he asked me if I believed in flying saucers, he claims to have seen two.  I said, “no not really.”  He was a big Trump fan.  I just cannot go there.  Though I did agree with him that Putin would not invade Ukraine with Trump in power.  However, most of his other views were pretty out there.  I am not sure he represents Ireland as a whole but I loved walking with him and his little dog.

My advice for what it is worth is even if you cannot hike a long way do not run from town to town or city to city.  Do not drive anywhere and stop at an overlook and take a picture.  Stay awhile in one place, talk to people, absorb the culture and live in the moment.

The title is a take on an album that is one of my favorite artists.  Any guesses?

This is Padre one of our hosts.

Tales of a Wayward Southerner-Jenn Deits

Appalachian Trail “The world reveals itself to those who travel on foot.”
–Werner Herzog

I am not necessarily obsessed with the Appalachian Trail. It is the closest long-distance trail to me and yes I do love the Appalachian Chain. I was out west in the Tetons. I thought, “I love the west but the Appalachians are home. ”

Being from the foothills of the mountains, it seemed like a good starting place for hiking. My cousin Chris thru-hiked the trail after college, which I thought was pretty “cool.” My grandmother loved the mountains and I went to a family reunion in the Smoky’s the second weekend in December for about 40 years. It is in the blood.

I was at a turning point in life with the kids grown and a change in occupation. I was looking forward to pursuing things I was interested in. I know a lot of people who do not have many outside interests. I tend to have to many and have to narrow my focus.

A friend recommended a book, “Becoming Odyessa” about a young woman who thru-hiked; the book rekindled the desire to return to nature. Hiking and reconnecting with God and creation are both healing and restorative. I become more centered and when I remove myself from people. It is my break from the dailyness of life.

I began by joining the Nashville Backpackers Meet-up, and met many people on a section hike through the Smoky’s. My husband also backpacked, and we started going on trips together, and I finally made a solo trip. There is something about carrying everything you need in a 20-25 pound pack. You realize what you can and cannot live without. Everyone has a few extravagances they are willing to bring along, no matter the weight. I met someone who had a pillow that she had to have. I always bring a novel, even though I am often too tired to read it. I met someone who carried an axe to chop wood for a fire. Crazy!

The quiet is probably what I love the most. My husband and I are great hiking partners because he hikes faster than I do, so I usually am alone, which I particularly enjoy. Plus, I always talk to hikers along the way. I have to be careful. One couple I met told me they were from Detroit, and I said, “Well, bless your heart.” I knew immediately I had said the wrong thing because they went on to talk about how great it is. I cannot think of many places I would rather not live than Detroit!

Usually, I spend the first day reflecting on many aspects of my life, and I declutter. I have a small poster in my office that says, “Into the forest, I go to lose my mind and find my soul.” That pretty much sums it up.

People ask how I sleep on the ground. I do have an inflatable air mattress that is quite comfortable. Also, if I have hiked all day, eaten, then crawled into my tent, put in my earbuds, and am listening to a book, I am usually asleep in five minutes, so it doesn’t matter if I am on an air mattress or at the Four Seasons Hotel—I am just sleeping.

I have people ask me if I carry a gun on the trail. First, I have never shot a gun. I have never owned a gun. And, I have never felt anything other than safe on the trail. So the answer is no. I do not carry a gun.

When the idea for the Appalachian Trail came about, the founders cited one reason for creating it: concern that with the rise of cities, it was not healthy for people. The noise, the rush to get things done, etc. Of course, this was in the forties; think about how stressful things are today. I am thankful that my childhood did not include computers, smartphones, and social media, and travel teams. We built forts, went to the pool, and played kick the can. We were always outside. Sadly, I do not see as many kids out anymore.

My point is that the benefits of enduring inconveniences pail compared to what I gain by walking in the woods, climbing mountains, fording creeks, and sleeping outdoors.

Therefore, If you have to put on make-up before running to the mailbox- backpacking is not for you.

If you must shower, everyday-go to a spa instead.

If you have a low pain tolerance-forget about it.

If you do not like exercise-lie on the beach and read a book.

However, if you are willing to endure minor difficulties for the reward of going for days without the sound of a truck, motorcycle, or car. If you love nature, trees, wildflowers, and most importantly, you like to sleep under the stars, then—Hike On!

Suggested info on hiking and the benefits of being in nature:
Why I Hike-You Tube
Into the Wild-You Tube
Books: Awol on the Appalachian Trail-David “Awol” Miller
Becoming Odyssa- Jennifer Pharr Davis
Appalachian Trail- A Biography by Philip D’Anieri
A Walk in the Woods- Bill Bryson
An Unlikely Thru Hiker- Derrick Lugo

* Grandma Gatewood’s Walk (first woman to thru-hike)

“The Power of Nature suggested by the Appalachians heights was meant not just to provide an escape from the cities down below, but a better perspective on them and opportunity to reflect on the relationship between these two poles of our existence.” Appalachian Trail – A Biography, D’Anieri

McAfee Knob-Appalachian Trail-Virginia