The mountain of smoke and music

Just as the sun began to rise, a Cherokee brave moved swiftly, but silently, up the mountain path. A smoky mist cast a hazy glow over the pine-tree covered trail. He stopped briefly by a rotting log to inspect the tracks he was following. The Cherokee hunted these “smoking mountains” for more than 1,000 years. They learned to listen to what the mountain told them, to read the trails, to follow the murmur and rush of the creeks to fresh-water springs, and to appreciate the ore and minerals held in the underground caves that peppered the jagged hills.

The pines sweeten the soil, giving life to armies of mushrooms and fragrant wildflowers. Buzzing bees busily scoop up the pollen to make honey. Nocturnal owls and bats return to their nests while the chickadees and wrens begin their morning chorus. A red-tailed hawk surveys the valley from the top of an old oak tree. A bear ambles off into the woods.

In the 1700s, Scots-Irish families suffered persecution from the Catholic Irish as well as the Anglican English. William Martin, a Presbyterian clergyman, convinced his followers that they would have the freedom to build a better life in Charles Town, South Carolina. In 1772, five ships sailed to America.

Some settled in Charles Town, but many of them didn’t care for the humidity and sand and began migrating away from the coast in search of green trees and farm land. On the trek north, they had to cross the Appalachian Mountains where the steep hillsides and lush valleys reminded them of their homeland.

They brought with them their love of Celtic music. Songs were filled with intricate melodies and story-telling lyrics – and that’s when they began “pickin’ and-a grinnin’.” The mountain reverberated with the toe-tapping, hand-clapping, music of the fiddle. “Bluegrass” became one of the native grasses that covered the mountainside.

The Scots-Irish brogue was another form of music they brought to the mountain. This unique way of speaking featured a lyrical turn of phrase, possibly borrowed from Shakespeare, or maybe Chaucer. “I’m a-feared I’m all tuckered out and need to sit and rest a-spell.” The language of the mountain was as expressive and lyrical as its music. Folk heroes, Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett roamed the mountains and became the focus of many Appalachian ballads and songs.

The region has a long history of supernatural tales about ghostly apparitions and evil witches. There are rules to follow if you happen to be in the Appalachian Mountains. People on the mountain know it is dangerous to sing or whistle in the woods after dark, because you might “conjure up” a ghost or witch. The eerie, hazy, smoke that hangs over Appalachia enhances the tales of ghosts and witches.

The “smoke” is a misty fog that rises from the mountain streams in the early morning. But there is more to it. Plants emit oxygen as well as something called “volatile organic compounds.” Let’s face it, a “volatile organic compound” sounds like it could most certainly be a ghost or witch to me.

Appalachian folk believed superstition and omens could warn of bad luck or good luck and could even predict the future. If a chicken lays an uneven number of eggs, it means danger. If your nose starts itching, it means company is coming. If your foot itches, you are going on a journey. If you see a white horse, it will bring good luck. If you want to ward off the pain of arthritis, put a buckeye in your bra.