A bright and beautiful day it was on monday. I sped away from home towards the remote smoky mountains of Tennessee. Being a journey of some 800 miles, I brought along a huge supply of trail-mix along with the last few pounds of acorn meal. The journey was off to a brisk start. I quickly sped through Delaware and Maryland to reach coastal Virginia. While driving through this span of fertile Virginian territory, I made frequent stops at sites of historical significance.
At the small town of Shenandoah, I visited the famous battlefield where an outnumbered army of confederate soldiers charged up a hill lined with Union artillery and repeating rifles and won the day. The small villages of Roanoke and Greenville which boasts as the respective birthplaces of General Stonewall Jackson and American Explorer Davy Crockett were also visited. Last but not least, the railroad station at Manassas Junction could not have been left unseen. At Manassas, the rebels under the command of Stonewall Jackson, held back 2 separate invasions by the armies of the Union. While one can argue that the intentions of the confederacy may have been tainted with the tarnish of slavery, noone can doubt the courage and warcraft of it's fighting men. In anycase, the bravery of the South was no match for the industrial might of the north. The crushing of agricultural societies by industrial ones is an event all too common in the recent history of mankind, regardless of cause or intent.
On I drove towards my destination, from the coastal plains of Virginia into the mighty Appalachain mountains. I quickly crossed from Virginia into the state of West Virginia. It appeared to be a very underpopulated region with miles upon endless miles of mountains and forests. Small isolated communities were seen every 10 miles or so. The views of this state were simply breathtaking. Perhaps before the industrial revolution, much of the planet would've been as beautiful as this. In anycase, several hundreds of miles were traversed in West Virginia. The mountains and valleys grew ever narrower and more claustrophobic. At last all I could see was the road and perhaps 20 to 30 yards on either side of the road, after that, nothing but tall overhanging peaks. At last, I reached Grundy, a town of around 1000 souls. Grundy used to be a coal-mining camp that had the good fortune of having a road built through it. Now that the era of industrialization had passed, a small town somehow spawned itself upon the tiny sliver of ground that exists alongside of the highway. At no point along the entire span of the town, did the total width of flat ground ever exceed 150 yards. And even that mere sliver of flat land was only built through the accumulated rubble of countless strip-mining operations, it was indeed a sad sight. Backed by mountains on both sides, there's a strong sense of gloom and claustrophobia surrounding the place, I was more than a little uncomfortable there. At Grundy, I visited a good friend of mine, and gave her a special delivery of Oriental Moon Cakes for the upcoming Spring and Autumn Festival.
At one point in my life, Allison was perhaps the dearest person in the entire world to me. But time, distance, and perhaps fate had conspired to make that bond all but dissapear. Allison was hospitable enough to offer me boarding at her own home, and we spent many hours that night in dialogue of days gone by. I realized that much distance had grown between us, distance not of mere space and time, and that saddens me more than a little. That night, I was plagued by strange and melancholy thoughts. If things had been just slightly different, Allison wouldn't be stuck here in this claustrophobic mountain town, I wouldn't have allowed that to happen. But if things had turned out differently, then I would never have discovered my one and only, chances are that I wouldn't even be on this side of the continent. But one cannot spend one's nights dwelling on what might have been, not when the undiscovered country of the future still holds such a promise of happiness.
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