ATV Trails in Tennessee
I hesitate to even write this review. Though not because I have a less than stellar opinion of the trail, as that's definitely not the case, but rather, I struggle with adding another blip on the radar, another tiny blinking light that says come check me out, come explore, which combined with all the other countless reviews, produces a glowing orb, a mini-sun, attracting throngs far & wide. Nonetheless, even as the thongs descend, and the gap between nature and suffocating development narrows, the urge to share this nature with others compels me to put pen to paper.
Window Cliffs is an approximately 5 mile trail, which is an easy morning hike for most folks, and will probably leave many wishing for more. While that was certainly the case for me after standing on top of the cliffs, looking out over the expanse of treetops, the trail started the moment I got off I40 and turned down Baxter Road. My breathing immediately became deeper, and my eyes wider. Wild flowers of all sorts jumped out at me; oxeye daises, small skull caps, evening primrose, sandwort, and so many more I couldn't identify. It seemed every house had a barn, many of which looked immaculate, like something you could live in, but not something folks out that way would call a 'tiny house.' They've worked hard for their actual house, enjoy the space it provides, and have no compulsion or even an inkling of escaping city life for something simpler. Having never been captured, they don't need to escape.
The scene on the drive in that struck me the most, even making me quickly hit the brakes, back up, revel in awe of it, and take a picture, was of a small, quaint farm house, with a sign along side the road reading 'Eggs for Sale, ' with smaller subscript reading 'Honor System.' I never saw a person around the house the few minutes I was there, milling about or busying themselves in the yard, but I feel strongly that the owner was someone's grandma, body moving slowly, but mind sharp as a tack, voice as gentle as a stream, and that grandma smell that could ease any teething baby to sleep. I didn't have any cash on me, but if I did, I would have left it all in the Igloo cooler sitting in the Red Rider wagon in her driveway, and never touched the eggs. I just wanted her to have my money, and her to sell the eggs to someone else. I can tell you this: there ain't one breakfast spot in all of Nashville, not Barista Parlor, not Frothy Monkey, not Loveless Cafe, that has an 'Honor System' sign in their window.