The Pandemic Provided an Unexpected Gift of Time on Public Lands

Rev. C. Craig Topple is a healthcare chaplain who lives with his family in Athens, Georgia.

This pandemic period has certainly shifted much of life as we know it. In our case, my elementary school aged daughters embarked on virtual learning just as activities such as soccer and gymnastics were being halted. Thus, they were spending much more time on screens–and indoors–than ever before.

We realized we had been given an unanticipated opportunity: time together. Why not merge this gift of time with the gift of public lands through a backpacking excursion? In late August, I made an ambitious pitch to the family: let’s tackle a portion of “The Southeastern Serpentine Trail,” which snakes its way along 583 miles of southern Appalachian backcountry.

I picked out what I thought would be feasible for us, sections 1 thru 4, nearly 30 miles–by far our longest distance at one time as a family. About noon on a Friday, we headed for the Springer Mountain trailhead. Our goal was to camp that night at the Three Forks area where the Stever, Chester and Long Creeks merge. As soon as we arrived, the girls were splashing in the water. It was a great start to a fantastic four days, over which we experienced:

• Unmatched beauty, including countless colorful mushrooms, Suess-like hickory trees, and massive poplars
• Unanticipated challenges. Section three of the trail was hot and strenuous but the girls sang the entire “Hamilton” soundtrack from beginning to end to help them keep moving
• Personality-packed insects, including hungry caterpillars, recluse-like spiders, and one intimidating hornet drawn to our headlamps (fortunately no sting!);
• Cool mountain streams, waterfalls, and rivers for bathing, drinking, and fun;
• Bright stars, half moons, frog and cricket choruses.

Our final night on the trail was spent in a gap just down from the highest mountain in this section, Licklog (3470 ft). Secluded behind a thick canopy, we were greeted by a flat place to pitch our tent, and an inviting fire ring where we roasted marshmallows for s’mores and sang campfire songs.

When we descended down from the mountain the next day, our feet and backs were sore, but our hearts and souls were filled. For me, it was bittersweet when we reached the vehicle — I didn’t want the trip to end. As we all cheered in celebration at our accomplishment, I was filled with both gratitude at the time we had spent together, and hope that this would be just the beginning of many more backpacking adventures together on our beloved public lands.

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So many of our country’s parks and public lands written about in these love notes would not exist but for the Land and Water Conservation Fund (LWCF). This important conservation program was permanently funded when Congress passed the Great American Outdoors Act earlier this summer. You can learn more about the Land and Water Conservation Fund here.

Would you like to write about public lands that you cherish? Please email Mary Jo Brooks at brooksm@nwf.org for guidelines.