Hiking up the mountain, I took the old trail. The one that few people used since the newer one had opened. The new one was marked with signs. Signs to show distance, and signs to let you know where you were and if anyone important had ever stood there before you.

That freshly graveled trail was often cluttered with out-of-towners and lazy locals. The old road was quiet and a bit overgrown, but it went past similar terrain. There were scenic overlooks, ruins of old houses and majestic newer homes that sat atop the mountain like decorations on a cake.

I stopped in front of a structure that was only occupied occasionally. It was often used as a short-term rental. The small sign at the base of the driveway was a glaring tipoff that it wasn’t a permanent residence. The plaque read: “Welcome. Stay... Read More