It is a pin connecting anyone now standing in this cabin, with its linoleum updates, to the Depression and an intention of showing work in the woods. Time collapses a little when one honors one’s grandfather. Mine labored in the CCC in Idaho, but the logo is a cross-country pin connecting his work to that of the Virginia-assigned men who built this little cave.
Uphill, a pin becomes a different pin: Sign on tree, nearly messageless.
At the top of the mountain, or alternatively, at the end of Mountain Top Trail, a very large pin (the mountain) is made more clearly pinlike by the addition of a smaller, more human-scaled pin. Now we know where we are. If erosion is changing the shape of the mountain and thus the location of the actual summit, we are unaware of it.
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