At 5,342ft, Wayah Bald is one of the highest peaks on the Appalachian Trail.
Pic is looking to the southeast from the summit.

There is a mountain to me so dear,
when I die spread my ashes here.
He's a grand mountain whose trees have seen many an icy winter.
So many that they are not straight and tall, but bent and gnarley like an old man.
I have spent many nights there alone,
me and my thoughts, with a bottle of tequilla and a roaring campfire,
I have battled many a demon and talked to God.
I can feel my brothers and sisters, the Cherokee here.
Their spirits, the ones who cried and died to make the "Trail of Tears",
returned to their beloved Smokies and now here dwell.
I feel them all around me as I look out over a fertile valley below,
they beckon me with sad brown eyes,
and when I leave they whisper "Oh Walt, please don't go."
they ask me why, I tell them I don't know.
I say it was manifest destiny so long ago
Manifest what? they look at me funny,
you know, when the white man thought they were God's own chosen people,
and were given the right to steal your land.
they gave you trinkets and laughed.
you didn't understand,
that the mirror you hold was payment for your land.
now you've returned to sit with me here,
and whisper tales of long ago in my ear.
To tell how you hunted bear and deer,
were proud stood tall and your eyes were clear.
I cry now for my brothers and sisters today....
fire water and drugs the young ones say,
will relieve my pain for just a day That's all I want...
just one day of self respect they took away
On hallowed ground I stand and pray,
for my brothers that they might find,
the peace that I had to make with myself.

Walt