World's Edge - No , Really

Sometimes my work takes me to some interesting places. It ranges from the side of the interstate watching cars whiz by at 80 MPH to pastoral settings where hardly another soul is seen.

I needed to check out a location in the western part of the state, so I did some research [Googling] and decided to head toward a place called World's Edge. Exciting, right?

As we made our way up the mountain, it was clear there was not much happening at the edge of the world. Small homesteads mixed with large hillside pastures indicative of western NC rural community life. We came to the summit of the road and found - a dead end. An old service road was gated and the other road was a private driveway.

"I guess we just...park?"

After a brief stretch out from the long car ride, I grabbed a few reference books and we headed down the service road. A short walk led us to a view I had not anticipated.

Wow.

We proceeded down the trail, popping over to the rock outcrops that dotted the cliff. Many times I looked straight down into the valley. It is not a place for unruly children or pets.

The weather was cool, and a steady breeze made for a lovely end of May day. I was impressed with myself and my googling prowess. Word of caution: the trail does go straight down from the trailhead, and it's not marked from what I could tell. Be sure you have a trail map and pay attention to your moves.

Indian Pipes being cute

Almost stepped on this lil' buggar

The day wasn't over yet. We made our way back to the car and took off to grab some lunch. Subs packed gently in the backseat, we meandered up to the Pink Beds Loop Trail (USFS Trail # 118) in Pisgah. There are two trailheads- I had chosen to use the Cruso Rd (NC 276) lot. All I needed to check was the bog area in the floodplain. The parking lot was packed when we first showed up. The day was still gorgeous, but leaning toward a rain shower. With the windows down we could hear dozens of children running and screaming in the picnic area. We decided to go back down the road and eat our lunch along one of the pull offs. After the break, we headed back up.

The bus loads of children had left when we returned. There were still many cars in the lot, and we found where the drivers and passengers of those had set up their tents. I counted 16 tents before we ducked out of sight down the trail to follow the orange blazes.

The clouds were darkening, but it never rained on us on trail. Sometimes the universe wants you to have a good time. We didn't stay very long, the wetlands are less than a mile from the trailhead. The section of the trail where the headwaters of the South Fork of the Mills River has room to flow slowly over the landscape is ripe with beaver activity. This combination leads to a great place to see mountain bog species. And the fact that it is settled right in the Pisgah National Forest means the waters that run through it are clearer than crystal. The relatively flat trail is a quick jaunt (around 5 miles if you do the entire loop). We returned to the car and headed out, back to Raleigh. This 16 hour day was one I didn't mind working.

Side note: to make this a shorter hike, take Barnett's Branch trail which bisects the loop.

Pink Beds Loop near the trailhead

Boardwalks along the bog make for easy walking

Glamp It Up Under Mt. Mitchell

This beautiful waterfall along a UT to South Toe River

When I first thought about boondocking, I had this image of the kind of serene, tranquil lakeside camp site you would see in an Instagram post. Woolrich blanket covered logs, hand-woven hammocks strung up between towering pines, a roaring fire surrounded by people and a few musical instruments. I know this is not what real life is like, but it was so romantic to think about the possibilities I had to take the chance.

Our first trip was to a site down South Toe River road, in the shadow of Mt. Mitchell. I had done enough research to know where the best sites were, and I even called the Forest Service office to confirm the open container rules in the sites. However, we didn't get to leave our house until late afternoon. Our ETA: 8:30 PM. No worries, right?

We came in from the top of the Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) and headed down the road in the dark. The first few sites were taken, but a 3rd secluded site was empty. It wasn't near the river, so we noted it in our brains and drove farther down the mountain.

We came upon the motherload of campsites. Huge expanses of flat ground with ample parking interspersed with smaller, more private sites. Most had water access, which is why I had packed the fishing poles and updated our licenses. Alas, it was not to be. Every site had been taken, all the way to the Black River Campground. We slowly and sadly made our way back to the only site left: the one we passed on the way in that had no water access.

We made the best of it. We loved how secluded the site was, tucked away all by itself for at least a half mile in either direction. Once we pitched the tent and made dinner, we turned off all the lights and were treated to the most beautiful firefly show I have ever seen. The rushing water provided the soundtrack to a very relaxing evening.

The next day we lazed about the campsite and read. I walked up to the bridge closest to us and took a few photos of the stream pouring over the boulders. Naps happened. And more exploring. I noticed what seemed to be a trail to the right of the bridge, but there was no trailhead sign and I saw no blazes up the hill. I've now learned this is actually a trail, but I'm certain it is not regularly maintained.

After another night of the dance of the fireflies, we curled up in the tent and read until we fell asleep. We were slow to get out the next morning, not wanting to leave our quiet nook on the mountainside. We packed up the truck and headed out the way we had entered, noting on our map where the primo campsites were located.

Plan C

Sometimes life doesn't work out like you planned. But life is about being flexible and having amazing friends. When we couldn't find a spot to boondock one weekend, we threw out a call for help to some friends who were on the other side of the country visiting family, and who were just about ready to put their Asheville house on the market. Luck would have it, it was going on the market the following Monday. We were able to crash at their place one last time. And if that wasn't enough of an awesome twist, another great friend was also in the area. We were able to meet up for a nice hike. Life is pretty rad.

We met up with my friend Rachel who had come up to Old Fort with some friends of hers. This was little Maddie's first hike ever. Naturally, we chose Craggy Gardens for its ease and convenience. And beauty. I've always loved Craggy Pinnacle since I first summited it during a 2-week long summer course. Panoramic views, cool breezes. Yes, there are plenty of people (especially on a nice day), but it's worth it. This was also Lego's first hike after being subjected to 12 weeks of no exercise post knee surgery. There was much rejoicing!

The hike is an easy 1.4-mile out-and-back from a large parking lot off the Blue Ridge Parkway. Being in the Black Mountains, the range is a great place to visit during the summer months. The high elevation means great odds you'll have cooler weather than in the valley. The lots fill up quickly on a good day, so get there early. If the summit is too crowded, head down to the trail fork and take the short trip out to the rock outcrop below the summit. There are usually fewer people here, but you still get the views.

Rachel being super tall and super pretty :D

Overlook at Craggy Pinnacle

One of the most majestic beasts I've ever seen. Xander and Lego were fast friends.

First hike for the babe!

Since we were so close to Mount Mitchell, Blake and I decided to head over for more hiking. Lego seemed up to the challenge. We decided to hike out to Mt. Craig first because the parking lot to the summit was full. We quickly lost 95% of the visitors. The hike was more strenuous than I remembered. Or, maybe, more strenuous with the extra weight I was carrying since the last time I had hiked it.

We reached Mt. Craig and sat to cool off in the steady breeze. We met a trail maintainer and another hiker who were chatting about western NC trails. The maintainer was an older woman, probably in her late 50s to early 60s. She'd been maintaining trails for over 20 years. She was out for a "short" 10 -mile hike this day. The following weekend she would be in the Outer Banks running a half marathon. My internal thoughts pleaded for me to be this active when I was older. We finished the 2-mile out-and-back hike in about an hour and a half (included the jabbering).

We hiked back to the parking lot, then took off toward the summit. There's no reason to skip it, no matter how crowded it is. The highest point east of the Mississippi River at 6,684 feet is always an inspirational spot to look out over the mountains and feel all at once insignificant and important. There's a nicely paved, short (but steep) trail up to the observation platform. Stand on top of one of the benches, and you are the tallest thing on the east coast!

Great views from Mt. Craig *insert heart eye emoji here*

Lego was finally worn out after all the hiking. I love the spruce-fir forests of the Black Mtns

Keepin' it Local

Whenever I get the bug for a trail run, it's usually the result of becoming bored with the same road route I run from my front door. While I appreciate the convenience of having a wonderful greenway system within bipedal distance of the house, I sometimes need the focus of avoiding trips on roots and rocks that a trail provides.

Little bit o' roots and rocks, but nicely maintained

My favorite place to escape is Durant Nature Preserve just north of town. This small park offers just enough seclusion to give the illusion of a pure trail run. And the Border Trail is just the right distance to make around a 3- to 3.5-mile jaunt possible. Its (mostly) easy grade and moderately technical track offers the amount of mental awareness I'm typically in the mood to find when I head out there.

The preserve was originally a Boy Scout camp, and that history is evident throughout the park. In fact, the surrounding neighborhood of Durant Trails was part of the camp and boasts adorable street names such as Halfhitch Trail, Philmont Drive, and Loyal Lane. It reminds me of a quote I read while living in D.C. for a summer how the suburbs are where they cut down all the trees and name the streets after them. But development is a part of life, so I'm comforted to know this 237-acre city-owned park survived the bulldozers. Now the park hosts a variety of nature activities, has a butterfly garden, a tree trail (also a good run), a fishing dock, shelters and a playground, large picnic area, and about 5 miles worth of trails for biking and/or hiking.

One great thing I love about the trail system is how interconnected it is. I can set out with a plan to run the entire border (using some of the bike trails to get more distance), but midway I can check a trail map at major junctions and cut my run shorter if necessary. This was helpful on my last outing. I decided to cut some time off and run the lake trail after huffing my way up to the junction of Beaver Pond Trail and Border Trail. I rarely go around the lake because it's more technical. Runoff from the surrounding landscape exposes roots and rocks, and there are short sections of single track with a direct splash down option on the lake side. A few minutes into my stint out South Lakeside Trail I come upon a sign that reads the trail is closed due to erosion and to please turn around the way you came. But the sign is on the opposite side of the tree that I've come from. I stand there a few minutes trying to decide which way it is I'm supposed to go. I make the decision to head back the way I ran in, remembering that the erosion was not too awful that way.

This section of the Border Trail is what makes it my favorite - a little jump across the creek

Back at the trail junction I look for another sign that I'm sure I must have missed, but none to be seen. After a minute I head out White House Road and back to the lot. I believe it ended up being just under 3 miles with my turn around, and that seemed to be enough for the day.

I love this little park, and I love its proximity to my home. If you get the chance, I recommend checking it out! https://www.raleighnc.gov/parks/content/ParksRec/Articles/Parks/Durant.html

Breakaway to Grayson Highlands

After a decidedly exhausting election campaign season and subsequent result of that election, Blake and I needed a break from the real world. We escaped to the Grayson Highlands for a birthday weekend to relax and just be two people who agreed on something - the healing properties of lacing up hiking shoes and hitting a trail.

Ever since our Roan trip, I had longed to see sweeping vistas. While we do plan to attempt Roan again, we wanted someplace we hadn't been before. Grayson Highlands has been high on the list for a few years, so we decided to shoot on up for our combined birthday celebration (we are grossly only 6 days apart).

We stayed in a cabin about 20 minutes from Grayson Highlands State Park. It had stairs, so Lego was in heaven running up and down every chance she could. We woke up the first morning there and made a giant breakfast of sausage, eggs, and biscuits. After cleaning up, we made ourselves some PBJs and threw some snacks into the daypack. We arrived at the ranger station and paid a nominal fee to enter the park. Although we planned to hike out of the park, we didn't mind paying. From what we saw of it, this park is expertly maintained. And so gorgeous! We would have loved to explore it more, but we were there to see the views and the ponies.

The balds were dotted with these large rock outcrops

We parked along the road near the overnight backpacking lot. We followed the path to the first set of many gates they utilize to corral the ponies into their designated sections. As we walked, we passed the 500-mile marker for the AT. The sun was shining brightly, but the wind was steady with the reminder that winter was right around the bend. That didn't stop the citizenry from enjoying a lovely fall day outside. We saw many folks day hiking and backpacking. It did not take long to find the ponies either. They meander around, seemingly uninterested in the bipedals surrounding them. Lego was very unsure of these larger, slower doggos. She kept her distance and refrained from boofing them. But she always kept a side eye on them whenever we moved closer.

Our destination was Mt. Rogers, about a mile one-way off the AT. The trail was usually easy to follow, although sometimes we lost it in the rocky areas. We were not disappointed with the views. In almost every direction there were miles and miles of mountains with no large areas of development to be seen. We decided, however, that looking into the North Carolina direction was more beautiful than the Virginia direction. We could be biased, though.

The trail headed up to Mt. Rogers is a stark contrast to the AT

We passed a handful of amazing campsites along the way. Large flat areas great for spreading out and relaxing. There were quite a few campers up there already. Some were just setting up, while others seemed to have been there for awhile, their laundry hanging on lines suspended between the trees. Some of the sites even had amazing views of the valley and ranges beyond. We'll definitely go back to weekend camp up there.

We reached the Thomas Knob shelter in about 2 hours. There were a scattering of hikers hanging out around the picnic shelter chewing granola bars and chatting. Lego was most interested in the puppy they had accompanying them. They each allowed the welcome sniff but lost interest in each other quickly. Lego was tired, and the puppy had been having a snack itself, so after their intro, they both went their ways. We reached the spur trail to Mt. Rogers and entered the coolness of the forest. It was quite a change from the vastness of the trail we had walked. The air was close, and the sun filtered through the trees to cast shadows on the needle-laden trail. It was apparent that it was mid-afternoon now, we only had a few hours left until sunset.

We made it to the top of Mt. Rogers and found a spot on a rock away from the scout troop that had also stopped to have a snack. We ate our PBJs and jerky while Lego begged to go sniff all the people. While Mt. Rogers boasts itself as the highest peak in the east without a road leading to the summit (say that 5 times fast), there was not much more than the geodetic marker and the thick stand of fir trees. Don't get me wrong, it was beautiful. Dark, cool, mystical even. But after having walked across countless balds in the bright fall sun, it was not the climax of the hike we thought it would be. The sweat cooling off our bodies kept us from lingering too long on the summit.

Mom, there are people over there that I must sniff

On the way back we stopped at a trail junction that also serves as a viewpoint (from the top of a rock outcrop) and a campsite. From this point, we slowed our pace so I could take a few pictures of the landscape. We came across a small gathering of wild ponies munching in the grass just off the trail. Ignoring all urges to keep my distance, I slowly walked over to them and took a few shots. I can see the allure of petting them, they look so docile and almost family pet-like. But I resisted, and instead satisfied myself with just watching them peacefully mingle among the tall grass. Off in the bushes I did see two of them get into a small biting fight. I took that as my cue to leave and head back toward the trailhead.

I stopped along the rocky part of the trail to take a few pictures of the valley. We had Lego off leash in between us since she had nowhere else to go along the rocks. Blake kept hiking, but as I turned to get back on the trail I heard him holler, "Do you have Lego?" I looked ahead to see the doggo poised on the rocks looking back for me. My heart was so filled with love that she had waited for me. As I walked closer I furrowed my brow at her. Her leash had gotten stuck around a rock, and she couldn't move. That goober wasn't waiting to make sure I followed, she was waiting for someone to come release her. Turd.

Mom, halp! I are stuck!

Before we headed back into the state park, we stopped to take a family photo. We chose to have North Carolina behind us (because biased). I told Blake to take Lego out ahead of where I sat up the tripod. While framing the shot I grabbed a great one of our honor roll student rolling around in the pony poop. We used the best one for our Christmas card.

Apparently horse shit is a good thing to Lego

We were almost to the last gate when I heard loud footsteps and rustling brush behind us. I turned just in time to see a large pony barreling past us just off the trail. Lego freaked, and I'll admit I was a little startled as well. We continued on, but around a switchback came face to face with one of the largest ponies I had seen that day drinking water from a spring right in the middle of the dang trail. We tried to wait him out, but Lego was too nervous to stay still. We decided to take a wide swing down gradient of him. It was a mucky mess to cross, but he seemed to appreciate our passive detour.

We made it back to the truck just before sunset. It was considerably cooler now, and we were pretty tired from our (approximately) 8.5-mile hike. We headed back to the cabin to enjoy a nice birthday dinner of burgers and beer. It had been a great birthday celebration and nice soul-healing trip.

Lego was brave enough to climb up on the rocks at the trail junction. Then she saw more people she needed to sniff.

Doggo on the trail, just south of Thomas Knob shelter

Kimby Bikes Again!

In August I rode in my second MS Bike. Due to one of the most devastating floods to ever hit my home state, the usual trail was washed out and not accessible for most of the bike route. The organizers made the decision to move the event to nearby Morgantown. The event was also pared down to just a single day. However, I had convinced Blake to join me this time, so we were still excited to get on the wheels and pedal about Mo-town.

It was also a chance for me to visit the town I hadn't seen in about 15 years. Blake had never been, so we treated it like a vacation. Minus the 3 hour nap I took post ride.

I took some photos, but unfortunately my camera with the memory card of the event was stolen in a break in we experienced the following month. Mandy took lots of photos (as usual), so all these can be attributed to her.

Everything was going pretty well for the first half of the ride. We were making great time despite my chain falling off at the beginning of the ride. The trail was mostly shaded, but the humidity was rising quickly as time passed. As always, the rest stops were well stocked with goodies and fluids to keep us fueled.

On the way back I got a flat. We were quickly approaching max heat and humidity for the day, so we fast changed the tubes and set out again. A few minutes later I noticed I was exerting a lot of energy to keep up with everyone. I looked down and saw my tire was flat AGAIN. For real. We pumped it back up to get to the nest rest stop. We thought it could possibly just be from not having a full-sized pump.

At the rest stop I handled my tire situation with a big girl pump while Blake refilled my bottles. I tested it - great, that worked. We take off again, but within 10 minutes I can see that my tire is slowly losing air. EFFFFFFFFFF! We hop off again and curse at the situation. The pump tries to give up on us, too. Everyone was hot and tired. I made a decision to pump it up one last time, then ride as fast as my legs would take me to the finish. We had about 20 minutes left to ride at that point. I was determined to not stop until I crossed the finish.

By the skin of my teeth (or the tread of my tire) I made it just in time. I had worked so hard to keep up - I was exhausted. I took the extra beer tickets from Mandy and her dad to celebrate our victory (or cool down).

The race has been moved back to the Greenbrier River Trail this year. I'm excited to participate again - and hoping this time everything will go off without a hitch (or a flat)!

Before the ride - all smiles!

OMG WE DOOOOOOOOONE!

Carb loading with our s'more pizza for dessert

#OptOutside

For the past few years, we've been participating in the REI #OptOutisde campaign. This campaign encourages everyone to get outdoors on Black Friday instead of being stuck inside malls and stores. They even give their employees the day off so they can be a part of the crowd. I'm so proud to be a REI Co-op member for their dedication to getting people outdoors. The fact they choose to stay closed on the biggest shopping day of the year makes me want to shop there every day (as if I needed another reason).

This year they partnered with Subaru. For each post of your dog with #OptOutside and #MakeADogsDay, Subaru donated money to help homeless animals. They also offered a fleet of Subarus to shuttle homeless dogs so they could participate in #OptOutisde. How sweet is that?

Of course, we had to participate. Lego loved every minute of it. We tried out a semi-new trail close to the house. I had been on a portion of it for a class, but we hiked farther this day. We started at the Falls Lake Dam parking area and walked the Mountains to Sea Trail (MST) for a few miles.  We were pleased to see quite a few people out walking (and with their doggos!). This trailhead is quite interesting, in that if you head west along the trail you get what you'd expect, uneven terrain, dirt, roots, rocks. If you head east you walk along the Neuse River Greenway. We've biked this paved greenway many times while training for the MS Bike Ride. I've even put my kayak in here for a (longer than expected) float with a friend. It has only now occurred to me how great of a trailhead this space is. So many options for recreation! The MST is also a long trail that stretches from Clingman's Dome in the Smokies to Kitty Hawk in the Outer Banks. It also has a paddle option as one of the sections!

In 2015, we spent Thanksgiving with my family outside of Bryson City. My nephew loves the Polar Express, so that was our biggest draw to the area. But as we all know, I love that area (only an hour to Joyce Kilmer!). We hiked in 3 different areas that weekend: a waterfall hike in the Smokies, the memorial loop in Joyce Kilmer, and on Black Friday we went SOBO on the AT from the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC). It was my brother's first time on the AT, and he tried to explain to my nephew that you could walk the whole trail up to WV if you wanted.

My mom is a fool for walking Lego. She took off ahead of us (constantly stopping with the nephew), and Blake kept up between her and the rest of us. Every now and then we'd joke she was headed to Georgia. A few times the nephew exclaimed, "Mommaw! Don't go to Georgia!" We made it to one of the shelters along the trail and let the nephew crawl around and check out the trail log. Then we headed back to the NOC.

Lego making a dog's day

Joyce Kilmer lunch break

We made the nephew point out all the white blazes he saw

They might be giants

Fall is my fav

Blake - the thing - again

Gorillas in the Mist - A Trip to Roan Highands

What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?

A coworker (who is much more a backpacker than anyone I've ever met) invited a few from the office to backpack a section of the Appalachian Trail (AT). It just so happened to be the section I've been dreaming of hiking for the past year.

The Roan Highlands are arguably one of the most scenic sections of this 2,842-mile trail from Georgia to Maine. Straddling the North Carolina-Tennessee line, this section boasts sweeping valley views from memorable grassy balds shrouded in mystery; and sometimes a thick fog.

The origin story behind these wide open balds takes us to competing theories. Could native Americans have kept them clear for hunting and grazing? Would fires from lightning strikes atop the high peaks promote the wide open fields? Did space aliens engage in an epic battle that ravaged the mountain tops and left them unable to grow no more than grass and small shrubs? Ok, I made that last one up.

I’ve been on countless day hikes along the AT in a handful of states. My first backpacking trip was supposed to be a trek from Clingman’s Dome to Max Patch. That ended up never happening. This AT trip was long overdue. With 6 competing schedules, it was difficult enough to find a long weekend we all had free. We found one. We had no idea how epic this weekend was about to be. In the week leading up to our departure, the weather forecast continually declined. Liz & I were checking almost hourly. We had a big decision to make. We all gathered into one office and went into the pros and cons. We decided we’d try another weekend instead. When we realized that was well into the fall season, we put on our big kid pants and made a command group decision to go on with the plan.

Spirits are high when the weather is nice

The 0 dark thirty meetup at the office was rough, but we were soon greeted with the sun slowly peeping through the clouds. Our first bathroom stop was windy and chilly. For some reason, this is when Wolf Bait decided to tell us he only brought shorts for the trip. “Uhm, maybe you’ll be fine…” Glorious sunshine greeted us as we stretched our legs at the trailhead. After some scurrying about, Liz and Jerry took off to shuttle the pickup car to our final destination at Hugh’s Gap. Twenty-some odd trail miles southbound. The rest of us took our time moseying up the mountain since the other two were at least an hour behind. Blake and I staggered behind the other two so we’d have a better chance of seeing the shuttlers. We wanted to have an accordion-style network to make sure everyone was still on the trail.

As Blake and I ascended, the sunshine continued to cover us in warm feelings. It was mostly sunny by now, no rain clouds in sight. A lovely day. We’d actually been on this section of trail a few years prior for a birthday weekend. It was nice and familiar. We greeted other hikers as they came off the mountain. However, the closer we came to our first designated meeting place, the more hikers we saw with long sleeves and full rain gear. The first few we opted to not chat with as some folks have different body temperature needs. It became apparent soon enough that we were actually the ones underdressed. I stopped the next hiker. “How is it up there?” I nod upwards toward the mountain.

“Awful! Twenty to 30-mile winds. Rain. Fog. You name it,” said the first.
“The wind is blowing so hard I almost fell over! And you can’t see anything,” the next.

We stopped at this overlook and talked to some drenched, tired hikers

They continued northbound and Blake and I let them get out of earshot before one of us says, “What the f&$k?” A few more hikers streamed past us, all donning rain gear, all looking defeated. It didn’t hit us until about 10-15 minutes from Dolls Flats. The air cooled significantly and felt heavy. By the time we caught up to Andy and Wolf Bait, we were in enough fog you had to strain to see the landscape. We lounged a while with them but agreed to wait for the shuttle folks so they could go on ahead. As we rearranged our packs under the cover of a large boulder, we see Jerry pop up over the crest of the hill. Liz and Masi are not far behind.

After pleasantries (and amazement at their quick ascent) are exchanged, we got down to business. It didn’t look good out over the trail, so Jerry wanted to try and catch up with the front runners. By all means, Jerry. Be our guest. Liz was grateful to have us back since she just hiked the same distance as us 30 minutes faster. And she’s wee. And has a big pack. We let her eat a snack, and then we set off.

Wonderful views!

It was chilly, but not unbearable. The fog cleared every now and then enough to see a few hundred feet ahead. But it wasn’t long before our optimism began to fail us. The wind got to me first. I’d opted for shorts and a long sleeve shirt since my legs usually stay pretty warm. I had worked up a healthy sweat in the hike up to Dolls Flats. Without the fog, I probably would have been alright. But the mist/sweat on my legs didn’t dry and chilled me when the wind kicked up. Then we hit the bald. As we passed through the cattle fence we could barely see ahead. And the wind. Oh, God! The wind! Blowing from our right to our left fiercely enough to make walking a straight line difficult. We tried to keep our eagerness about finally going backpacking. It was tough. By the time we were a mile or so in, none of us were talking much. The dogs had their heads down and were quite miserable as well. We reached the marker and took a quick breather. We pressed on, as did the wind and fog.

Wee Liz and her not so wee pack

We passed a few more hikers along the way. One set of women asked us if it was, “worse here than behind us.” Since we were walking opposite of them we had no idea. But we told them this was the worst we had seen so far. And that it was about 2 miles to the next fence. They moaned. In hindsight, we should have realized why. We reached the shelter of the gap and unload our packs. My right side was completely drenched and cold. The left side of me was dry and comparatively warm. It was odd. We had a few snacks and (smartly) donned our rain jackets. Mostly to warm up, but they came in handy.

We're laughing so we don't cry (Photo: LD)

Backpacking hair, don't care (Photo: LD)

As we left the security of the gap we were met with even fiercer winds over the next hump. I’ve never been in a hurricane, but I felt like Jim Cantore up there. We kept hiking, tilting over every now and then when a particularly strong gust blew through. If we had wanted to talk to each other we couldn’t have. At one point I swore there was a helicopter above me. I kept peering over my shoulder, but all I could see was Masi leading Liz up the trail, both of them struggling to stay in a straight line. I finally realized the helicopter was a strap on my bag flapping so ferociously it sounded like Channel 5 News coming to film the idiots hiking across the bald.

By the time we reached the other side of Hump, we were done. We still had a few miles to the Overmountain Shelter. My feet were wrecked. I was happy to be able to throw my jacket hood off, but it was still windy and wet. We trudged on until we found the Overmountain Victory Trail which led to the shelter. We were happy to see Jerry along the trail getting water. He told us the barn was just around the corner. We walked around the corner and…..no barn.

“Did we go the wrong way?”
“No, he said turn right at the bottom of the hill and it’d be there.”
“Isn’t it a giant red barn?”
“Let’s just go back and find Jerry.”

We met him on his way back and followed him to where we had our previous discussion. We rounded “the corner” and in the not so very distant distance, there she was coming out of the fog. It was so cloudy, we just couldn’t see it.

We passed Andy’s tent in the grassy field and headed up to the top of the barn where Wolf Bait was already in his sleeping bag trying to warm up. Remember he didn’t bring anything long? Well, he also didn’t bring gloves. So he waved to us from his cocoon with his makeshift glove that is really the lonely partner to a pair of socks his dog got a hold of.

There were a slew of thru-hikers in the barn already. We made a few friends (easy when you have three adorable dogs traveling with you) and shared some of the accouterments we’d packed carefully into nalgenes, flasks, cans, and a platypus. It was a pretty quiet evening in the loft since many of them were a month into their hikes and had been hiking in this same weather for a few days.

SUPER DOG! (Photo: LD)

Enjoying wine in the shelter

The weather turned stormy. Along with the wind, rain pelted the outside of my sleeping bag as it was blown in through the gaps in the barn wall. A small price to pay as the hikers along the other walls were all through hikers. I woke up in my bed that morning, and I know my bed awaited me at the end of the weekend.

Liz and I were the last two awake. I stuffed Lego into my sleeping bag where she immediately fell asleep. After some time, we decided to lay down as well. Not like we’re going to go check out the scenery. About 30 minutes later, a large clatter of boots and voices arrived under the barn. A pack of boy scouts had hiked in and were just arriving. It was somewhere near 10 PM, and a few of them were lucky enough to score the last remaining real estate in the loft. We heard the others clamoring for space below, but inevitably, someone has to tell them there’s no more room and to go set up in the field. Lego barely twitched at all the commotion, and we both fell asleep to the gentle murmur of camp site set up outside.

I woke up with an almost 10-scale pain because I had to pee. I slithered out of my bag and threw on my down jacket and crocs and sped down the ladder. When we turned in for the night, Andy was the only tent in the field. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a few dozen tents at least. I couldn’t even point out Andy’s. I climbed up a hill and dropped and squatted. I noticed how not cold my arse was. I looked past the barn and saw a light on the mountain face across the valley. Wait. What? I looked up and saw the moon shining brightly above, with only a few wisps of clouds floating by. In my urge to urinate, I hadn’t noticed the change in weather. It was gorgeous. Serene. I continued to admire the landscape when my eyes fell upon a strange shape about 30 feet behind me. Great. I peed next to a scout in a hammock. Hopefully, asleep. I shimmied my britches up and headed back to the barn. There were 3 more hammocks hung one above the other under the barn. It was a cool sight. I climbed back up the ladder and snuggled up with the little black dog. Sleep came easier this time.

This is insane!

We woke early, and I tried to explain my bathroom adventure to the rest of the gang. Unfortunately, peering out the barn walls we saw the fog and wind had returned. Blake, Liz, and I were slow to get going. Andy headed out first thinking we’d be close behind. But the 3 of us just couldn’t get going. Once we’re finally on the trail, it was evident that the rain had ramped up the level of bad ass we had to be that day. The trail was wrecked. Periods of fog/wind and downpours gave way to brief clearings when we rejoiced at the sight of the sun. Minutes later more bad weather rolled in. It went this way all the way to Jane’s Bald. We saw Carver’s Gap in the distance, so we decided to stop, stretch, and take in a little of the view. Large clouds blew through quickly, which gave Liz enough time to take a few shots in between. We headed out to find Andy, who’d been waiting for hours in the parking lot. After some apologies, we had a big decision to make. Most of us (everyone except Andy & Jerry) were done. Wolf Bait especially. The look on his face screamed, “I do not want to hike another step.” The iron chef magic ingredient, however, was that our shuttle car was either 10 miles back the way we came or 10 miles south of us. Luckily, a nice family waiting for their son/father combo to hike out of the woods offered to shuttle us back to one of the cars. We happily took them up on their offer and waited patiently as they grilled hot dogs and hamburgers for their family, while we ate the rest of the food we had packed for the next day. Scarfed it. On the ride back to pick up the second car, Jerry and I spotted a thru-hiker we met at the shelter. He was packless and carrying a giant grocery bag and a six pack. We laughed at the entire ordeal since we were nice and toasty in the comfort of the CRV.

What a swampy looking bunch! (Photo: LD)

Day 2 gave us the briefest of glimpses at the beauty that had been around us the whole time (Photo: LD)

Jerry gives us a geography lesson during a short break (Photo: LD)

We got back to Carver’s Gap and loaded all the wet gear into the vehicles. I almost forgot I put a six pack on ice Friday morning before we left and tossed it in the CRV. Since we’re all ready to GTFO, we drank them quickly and headed down the mountain. The three of us vowed to return to Roan to see the views we missed. And of course there was much bragging between us about how badass we were and that we can never seem to have an “epic for the sake of just having a great ol’ time” backpacking trip. One day. One day.

Waiting on our shuttle (Photo: LD)

Looking toward Carver's Gap (Photo: LD)