An unexpected adventure in the Whites
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For the fabulous few who venture beyond (their years)
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Navigating brambles, branches and balsam needles to remote peaks
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Old as dirt. When one steps off the ferry from the mainland of Scotland arriving in the Orkney Islands, that description becomes palpable. I've long been intrigued by what lies beneath the Scottish landscape, whether it's the mythic fairy haven in Dunkeld or the achingly sad battlefield of Culloden. But what has been uncovered and continues to be explored in the Orkneys is rewriting our human history.
Walking down the Baxter Creek Trail in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, Becky Smucker stops to quiet down the group.
"Listen," she says, "That's a black-throated green warbler." Twelve gabbing, stomping hikers break on a dime. The woods are silent except for the warbler's zee-zee-zoo. If I'd been hiking by myself, I would never have heard this bird—let alone identify it.