White Rocks Campground in the Jefferson National Forest

So, I was sailing down the highway not certain where I was spending the night, when some magnificent white cliffs overlooking a river caught my eye just as I passed one of those small magical brown signs that denote national forest land. So, I pulled off the next exit, opened my phone to search White Rocks in the Jefferson National Forest and found that there was indeed a White Rocks campground. I backtracked and followed the sign, which if it said how far the campground was, I missed that bit of information. The photos and reviews made it seem inviting, so on I went. And on. And on. The road was not paved, but it did follow a sparkling rushing stream so I kept on going. And going. When at last I reached the campground at what must have been the summit of this hill in the wilderness, I came upon an empty campground, desolate, unserviced. Weeds grew wild and while there might ordinarily have had water available, signs indicated that it had been shut off until a health services report cleared it for potability. Night was coming on fast and I was tired. So despite the aura of a crime scene, I decided to stay. Driving at night in the mountains is like playing a video game with all of the white-tail deer waiting at the road's edge for your headlights so they can leap into your hood. 

On the upside, the mountain laurel was in bloom. I grew up near Laurel Mountain in Pennsylvania and while there were plenty of the larger rhododendron around my Virginia mountain home, the smaller more delicate mountain laurel blooms were not as present, and I missed them. They call out to the little girl in me.

There was no cell service, so I turned off my phone. The chance of a psychopath making it the whole way up here to murder me was slim, but the chance that help would arrive in time was none. I locked my car doors and fell into the deepest, most restful sleep I could remember.

As that should have been unlikely given the way a high-strung brain generally functions, I could only wonder why the depths of darkness allowed me to sleep so peacefully within its folds. Of course I know that current scientific knowledge shows that radiation from satellites is not harmful and radiation from cell phones, while slightly stronger, is also safe for human exposure. My information is from the World Health Organization, not from our government, which like most is controlled by private interests and not to be fully trusted. Nonetheless, this information only reads: No known adverse health effects. Well, we don't know what we don't know, do we?  Subsequent years may well present a different story. They often do. I would not put myself in the category of one who easily subscribes to conspiracy theories. And yes, many logical reasons are posited about why anxiety levels are so ridiculously high these days. Yet, regardless of current knowledge and arrogant boo-hooing, I cannot discount that the constant bombardment of radiation is contributing to it.