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Kentucky by Heart: A close encounter of the bear kind will put a little pep back into your step


By Steve Flairty
NKyTribune columnist

In the summer of 2002, I decided to indulge my hiking interest in a big way. Some might call it a crazy way.

I drove down from Lexington to Cumberland Gap, stayed overnight in the adjacent town of Middlesboro at the Holiday Inn Express, then set out the next morning on a long hike from Pinnacle Overlook to Hensley Settlement.

The details, admittedly, are a little sketchy now, but the trails I took to Hensley totaled at least 11 miles—one way, so it would be a 22-mile round trip. Once I got on the trails, I had no plans to slow down, sleep overnight and make it a two-day trip. Doing the math, though, it showed that I needed to start early, about 8:30 a.m.

I planned on walking three miles per hour, which would be a little over seven hours to complete the project. That would easily get me back several hours before the gates closed at the Overlook, around dusk.

Or so I figured.

Hensley Settlement (Photo from Pinterest)

The hike started fine, and there were some long, flat stretches that I probably walked faster than the three miles per hour rate (20-minute miles). But within hours, I covered a very noticeable number of terrains. Some were “down” hilly, the kind that made me work hard to not fall forward, a stress particularly, on the ankles.

Going uphill seemed to bring the muscular stress higher up the legs. It was fine, even invigorating, at first. But as the yards, then miles, passed behind me, the muscles tightened, and a little fatigue made its appearance.

I wasn’t near Hensley yet, and I was getting tired. And even with the amazing beauty of the Cumberland Mountains surrounding me, a dull “sameness” emerged. A small sense of boredom teased at me, but something on my mind brushed it away—the knowledge that black bears would be in the isolated area around Hensley Settlement.

That wasn’t something I made up, either. The literature I read about Cumberland Gap National Park beforehand mentioned that a hiker might well see bears in the area, and it would be best to basically ignore them. Feeding them was out of the question, but no great danger was indicated.

Despite the encouraging words, the black bears were on my mind as I meandered close to Hensley.

Signs soon seemed to grow out of the ground, telling wide-eyed, weekend-warrior hikers like me that we might see the critters…and we should simply leave ‘em alone. That I planned to do, but when I saw my first, a medium-sized one about 150 feet away, and then another not far from it, my heart picked up the pace mightily.

Well, my obsession to reach Hensley, then turn around to complete the round trip in a day, overcame my primal fears. I picked up the pace, following the Hensley signs. All during those nervous moments, I avoided making eye contact with the two bears. The two imposing animals seemed to have the same idea…or maybe it was just a trick, I worried.

Soon, forgetting that I was tired and trying to compartmentalize my fears, I approached and entered the Hensley Settlement grounds.

Relieved to see no bears there, I spent the next 20 minutes or so checking out the rustic set of cabins, the split-wood fences and trying to picture myself in such isolation as the Hensley family chose for their selves back in 1903, when they bought 500 acres and divided it amongst their kin. It seemed pretty much a place of solitude on this day, too, with only a few other visitors browsing the premises.

According to Wikipedia, the National Park Service and the Job Corps, starting in 1965, helped get 45 settlement structures and the agricultural environment to its natural state. The NPS now runs Hensley as a living history museum, and it was beautiful to see, for sure.

However, my mind was now focused on heading back to the overlook, and my three miles hourly plan had to be discarded as a matter of practicality. The challenging walking terrain took care of that scenario, making it significantly slower to traverse. And so, now, in addition to making it past the bears as the turnaround trip ensued, I would need to pick up the pace.

That, or run the risk of having to sleep, unprepared, on a trail overnight because of not returning before dusk to the parking lot where my car sat. There was also the possibility that even if I made it to the car, it might be locked inside the gates. The park workers need family nights together, too, right?

And so, about 2 in the afternoon, I began the return trip. Within a mile, as I recall, a few more bears, maybe three or more, appeared. They were about a hundred feet or more away. I worried that a family of them had worked up an appetite while I visited Hensley, and that my skin and bones might be a nice appetizer. I had no proof, though.

I moved quickly, saving my trudging for later when I walked a safe distance away from the scare bears. When the safe distance came, along with the trudging, I was feeling serious fatigue…and the discomfort of aching pelvic joints, a red flag for real bodily stress (which I heard about somewhere), was upon this pitiful wayfaring soul.

Steve Flairty grew up feeling good about Kentucky. He recalls childhood day trips (and sometimes overnight ones) orchestrated by his father, with the take-off points being in Campbell County. The people and places he encountered then help define his passion about the state now. After teaching 28 years, Steve spends much of his time today writing and reading about the state, and still enjoys doing those one dayers (and sometimes overnighters). “Kentucky by Heart” shares part and parcel of his joy. A little history, much contemporary life, intriguing places, personal experiences, special people, book reviews, quotes, and even a little humor will, hopefully, help readers connect with their own “inner Kentucky.”

Not trivial, also, was a growing sense of boredom, which came after walking a total of more than 25,000 steps that day already.

Step, step again. Step, step again. Step, step again.

I played mind games to pass the time. One was guessing how many steps to the big maple in the distance, or thinking through issues unrelated to the current hike I was doing…but those tricks lost their luster after a while. I simply needed to keep moving, to get back to overlook before the sun set.

I also had another motivation to get back…hunger. After a good country breakfast that morning somewhere in Middlesboro, I can’t remember where, I nibbled on bananas, apples and protein-type bars along the way—and they didn’t satiate me, especially as the trip moved toward late afternoon.

But I had a mind that was clear, and it told me that I had time if I kept moving at a brisk speed, no matter the aches in my legs and stomach.

And I did make it back, and I recall it being about 15 minutes before the gates would be locked and my car trapped for the night. I sat in the car a few minutes and I’m sure I rubbed my legs and said a few prayers of thanks…and then, I was off to Ryan’s Steakhouse in Middlesboro, next to my hotel.

I must admit that I gorged myself on their salad bar that night, and I hope no one was watching my manners. It was ugly the way I attacked the food, but perfection has never visited with me for a very long stretch.

And if you’re thinking about making the trip to Cumberland Gap and replicating such a “bearish” adventure as mine, call the park first.

Reach the park visitor center at 606-246-1075.

The column was originally published on Aug. 18, 2015

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steve-flairty

Steve Flairty is a teacher, public speaker and an author of six books: a biography of Kentucky Afield host Tim Farmer and five in the Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes series, including a kids’ version. Steve’s “Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes #4,” was released in 2015. Steve is a senior correspondent for Kentucky Monthly, a weekly NKyTribune columnist and a member of the Kentucky Humanities Council Speakers Bureau. Contact him at sflairty2001@yahoo.com or visit his Facebook page, “Kentucky in Common: Word Sketches in Tribute.” (Steve’s photo by Connie McDonald)


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