Monday, October 14, 2019

Hiking and Experiencing Mysterious Mountain Lights in Linville Section, Oct. 14, 1919

From The Hickory Daily Record, Oct. 14, 1919. If you do a search today, you will still find people writing about the mysterious lights in the North Carolina mountains.

Those Beautiful Lights Are Viewed

Col. Fred A. Olds of Raleigh, who tramped through the mountains last summer, has written an entertaining article for the Orphan’s Friend on the Linville section and the wonderful lights that are seen there at night. The article will be of peculiar interest to readers of the Record:

Many people think the beautiful Linville river breaks through the Blue Ridge. Really it doesn’t It is all on the southeast side, in a funny kind of a pocket and twists about so it fools event he mountains which hedge it in. Now you see it and now you don’t, for it dodges about like a scared rabbit. Finally it executes the biggest stunt, goes over the falls and then races away, running like a mill-sluice in time of flood all the way down to the lowlands and passing between two enormous mountains which form a gateway, their foreheads rising on either side to the clouds. Then the river goes into the Catawba to be of use in generating power in many a town and factory. It is in the gorge that the finest fish, rainbow trout, are taken. This summer one was brought to Mr. Stokes Penland to be weighed, and it stood at 5 ½ pounds. It had swallowed, evidently a few minutes before it was caught, a brook trout seven inches long, so there was a double feast. It will be interesting to fishermen to know that only seven miles north of Linville Falls is the Toe river, which runs into the Gulf of Mexico, and in this there is splendid bass fishing with high records for weight and gameness.

In recent years, beginning say 10 years ago, there has been a great lot of talk of what some people call the “mysterious lights” a few miles from Linville Falls, these being also visible from a place known as Cold Spring, or Lowen’s, on the road on which teams go to Morganton from Blue Ridge. A party was made up to see these lights and after an early supper we left Linville Falls and hiked first along the road, then on a trail through lonely woods and finally struck the real thing, the world set up on edge and as we went up no doubt looked to the big mountains like flies climbing up the sloping side of a wall. In the party was a bride of a few days, weighing something more than 100 pounds, which you know is a rare thing for a bride to do. UP we went, then down and then up higher and steeper places until finally the dear bride, nearly at her last gasp and yet determined to see sights, called for help. So guide Stewart and the writer took hold of a stout stick and pulled her up the most staggering climb of all. Five minutes later she was sitting on the top of the mountain a mile high, looking at what seemed half the world, and eating chocolate caramels she wasn’t tired at all. That atmosphere is as refreshing as any shower bath.

There came to us from the neighborhood Postmaster Franklin and a lot of folks, including ladies and children. The mountain top on which we were has long been known as the Bald Field and is on Jonas ridge, a spur of the Blue Ridge. It is as bare of vegetation as the palm of your hand and has always been so. It is a fine place from which to see the lights.

Punctually at 9 o’clock, just as it became dark, the light flamed out, almost due east, apparently 10 or 15 miles distant, and on one of five rather lower mountains. It was precisely like a bonfire and lasted perhaps three seconds. The bottom was of the apparent diameter of a large hogshead and the upper part rose in a pyramid above it at an apparent height of say 10 feet; all of this of course being comparative. The light was bright but not of electrical brightness and was clearly due to fire.

Some minutes passed before more lights appeared, though the writer led a regular volley of applause and cried out for more. Presently a little fellow off to the northeast gave a flash. Altogether there were about 25 appearances and these were in about 70 degrees of a great circle. It was learned that they do not appear outside of this area. Mr. Franklin said sometimes that as many as four lights are seen at once but we saw only one at a time. Some of these were mere flashes, looking for the world as though they were made by some giant of a firefly, which the darkies call “lightning-bugs.”

At 10:30 the show was over, running about the same length of time as a high class movie picture, and very correct and punctual as to beginning and ending. Sometimes there is a double performance, lasting hours later. Mr. Franklin like the rest of us knew that Mrs. Nature was putting on a show and that in these mountains so full of caves as already stated, she has her chemists at work making gas. This escapes and when it gets enough oxygen outside to bring it to the combustion point it flashes; a big flash or a little flash according to the amount of gas evolved.

Mr. Franklin told a most interesting story, saying that some years ago one of his sons ran into the house and said, “Papa, the sun has fallen into our wheat field and exploded.” Mr. Franklin ran out and saw a light so vivid that he had to shield his eyes with his hands. In a few seconds it was gone and when he went to the spot he found the oats had been lightly scorched. They showed it and there was also an odor of scorching vegetation. He remarked that for a hundred years these lights have been seen but that only lately has there been so much talk about them. Of course they appear all day but are rarely visible in daylight. There are thousands of caves and crevices in those mountains and it is no wonder that this peculiar phenomenon develops there. Some people actually thought the lights are due to engine headlights. But the natives laughed at this. They know what causes them.

In all the hike from Blowing Rock to Linville Falls not a single negro was seen nor did any of them appear until Marion was reached. In perhaps half of Mitchell county there has never been a negro. If you don’t believe it ask the folks who live on Rock Creek there. No tobacco was seen except two tiny little patches many mile apart. It is hardly worth while to try to raise tobacco there, as the frost generally catches it. There used to be leaf warehouses in the mountains but now these are only a memory. How great is the snowy beauty of the fields of buckwheat in bloom, most numerous in Watauga, Ashe, Alleghany and Avery, where two crops can be grown in a season, for it matures in about 60 days.

The gay and festive moonshiner was not seen but little heard of. Sheriff Pritchard of Mitchell, whose father was the late noted Sheriff George D. Pritchard, assured the writer that there is not an illicit still in Yancy county but that he got one now and then in Mitchell. A few of these were seen in the jail at Bakersfield.

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