2021/9/28 - LOOKING GLASS ROCK & FALLS
DIRECTOR'S CUT EXTENDED EDITION

This is the Director's Cut Extended Edition for this album, meaning I have included many photos which don't meet my typical artistic standards because they hold special memories for me. If you are looking for a shorter and higher quality collection, or if you are not a fan of spiders, visit the curated Theatrical Cut at LOOKING GLASS ROCK & FALLS - SPIDER FREE THEATRICAL RELEASE.

In September/October of 2021 I took a trip to Asheville, NC and walked my poor feet as much as they could take up and down the Appalachian mountains. I went back out to the mountains this day, driving an hour before sunrise to be able to catch it rising behind the majestic Looking Glass Rock. It is incredibly cold in the mornings, before the warmth of the sun, especially when you are standing still waiting for something to happen rather than hiking and getting the blood pumping. Starting from the same overlook, I headed down the trail towards Skinny Dip Falls, which had warnings about rock slides and damage from flooding due to Tropical Storm Fred in August. Although I couldn't get close to the falls due to complete trail destruction, it was clear on the way there save for an unusually large amount of rocks flowing under a small wooden bridge. I then drove down to see the Rock from up close, stopping on the way at Moore Cove Falls and Looking Glass Falls.

After quickly eating a canned soup breakfast in my car, I realised I had lost my hat. I didn't want to lose the morning weather going to look for it, so I headed up the backbone of Looking Glass Rock with my hair in the nude. It wasn't an issue in the beautiful, shady forest until I reached the bare, exposed stone at the peak, which dropped off precariously into absolutely nothing. A small cluster of goldenrod fed a family of carpenter bees at nearly 4 thousand feet. I tentatively took selfies in a way that ensured I wouldn't end up in an embarrassing news article, nearly lost my camera lens cap, then descended down the way I came on the deeply eroded dirt trails. With my sore jelly legs, I hiked back up to Moore Cove Falls much slower than the first time, but saw no hat. I drove all the way back to the overlook where I watched the sun rise, and, to my delight and astonishment, there was my hat, in all its glory, resting at the base of the overlook sign, exactly where I had dropped it while taking photos 7 hours earlier.