Recapitulation

Day 6 continued (still in the Development stage)

What I found out just a few years ago, is that the Appalachians at average annual rainfall are just a few inches shy of being classified as a "temperate rain forest".

Nearing Sugarloaf Gap, a climb up to it in this case, it was

A. Getting dark.

and

B. Threatening to rain. 

B. Raining.

In the light rain, I tip-toed through some sensitive foliage areas and finally found a great   passable potentially dangerous place to hang. I don't like to hang on dead wood. I don't like to hang at the top of a hill. I don't like to  hang on locust trees. I particularly don't like to hang on dead locust trees at the top of a hill. There were several dead locusts up here.  Probably had been struck by lightening. No, I don't know about that for sure, but I've always heard locust is choice lightening fodder.  You just don't make the best choices when you're rushed by rain. Everything takes longer when you're rushed. I finally got my gear and myself in the dry just as  it stopped raining and even cleared some. The moon cast a forest of shadows on the roof of my bed and I fell asleep.

Day 7

The morning was gray, but it was dry.  I started to get out of the bag, but thought I'd linger just a while longer. A few minutes later I looked out and  it was just a little bit darker. Maybe I'd better stay put and see what the weather wants to do.  I wasn't long in finding out. The sky really darkened. Then came the rain. And the wind. And lightening. After all it was Thor's day. By counting out the seconds between lightening and thunder,  at first it was about a mile and a half then a few hits within a mile. Then one hit within a thousand feet. This might not be so good. I like bar-b-que as well as the next, but not when it's me. The next hits were further and then even further and  the rain stopped too. 

I let the trees shake dry a little before I packed up. Just as I was getting out back to the trail, I saw Darwin was pushing hard, up and out of the gap. She had no doubt climbed a lot of Sugarloaf in that storm. Today, I couldn't seem to get my engine running strong and steady. My walking was a saunter at best on fairly easy terrain. There as a chill again with fog rolling in. As I was getting close to the shelter, I came upon two large poplars side by side that had lost their 12-15" diameter side sprouts to today's storm or one a just a day or two earlier -the wood smelled fairly fresh. The wind had snapped them like kindling just above the ground and laid them across the trail.

I walked into the shelter to fix lunch and to get water just as Darwin and maybe it was Bowser were leaving. They were dressed for bad weather. Good call. Within 10 minutes it was raining again. Slopes came in just behind me and headed off for water and got caught without his rain gear. Which turned out not to be so good as the water was further than normal for shelter water. He's been having a tough spell. He was one of 4 who got caught in the rain, wind, and snow while sleeping in the old fire tower back down the trail. Everything they had got soaked he said and they had to hitch back to town to dry everything out. 

The Canadian drifted in, then Big Orange from Australia who has spent his retirement hiking trails like this all over the world. A few others came in before the Train Gang showed up. There was only room for Smokehawk and his gal to squeeze in. Several others collected in tents about the area. I had walked the least for the day of all, but seemed the draggiest of all. With the fog it looked like dusk all afternoon. But real night did finally show up with some wind to keep us company. The fancy bear lines coincidentally were tuned to sound like the warning beeps of heavy equipment backing up when the wind blew through them just right. Worst night for sleeping of the whole trip. I probably should have hung my hammock instead of sleeping on plywood. For that I was better prepared but wasn't motivated.

Day 8

One good thing about shelter sleeping is that it's so uncomfortable you want to hit the trail sooner. I had taken a long walk to the stream, pumped water, and was back before many had stirred. Today, I was rested and feeling like making better mileage. I had a good hunch the weather would brighten up and it did. Not long on the trail I met and had a good chat with Foxfire, a woman from over around Mt Mitchell, who was headed south for a few days. 

Recapitulation

I crossed I-26 at Sam's Gap, and had a long climb from a major highway just like the first day. This is the climb to Big Bald. But the trail has developed to a higher elevation at this gap and this 5 mile climb has 1000' less of elevation gain than Snowbird which 1400' lower. Big Bald is also finishes 1000' higher than Max Patch.

The day turned downright sunny. Found a good spring right on the trail, met a tribe of day hiking ladies whose spirits were soaring in the thin mountain air. Mine were too. I wasn't going to make it to Roan High Knob. Not this trip. My legs and feet just couldn't do the math. At this point, Tuesday would have been a likely finish and that was well out of my time boundaries for this time. But on the bright side, I could see my Honeybunn a day sooner by bailing at Erwin, TN.  

The walk up to Big Bald was easy, the trail was black and soft lined with vibrant green foliage. The closer I got the more like home it felt. When I came out into the bald area the highland grass and hawthorn scrub seemed like long lost cousins. The velvety green of Max Patch had been lush and inviting, but the tawny, grayish wisps on the fields of Big Bald brought to me a greater sense of standing at the heart of wisdom. At Max Patch you have a spiritual experience. At Big Bald the spiritual experience has you. 

With some reluctance I moved down the mountain. At Big Bald shelter I caught up to Hambone, Jabs, and Sonshine -3 younger guys who had passed me earlier in the day. We had a good chat, Hambone went on ahead. I gave Jabs and Sonshine what of my food they wanted since I wouldn't need much for just another day. Rumor up and down the trail had been of a Hiker Feed on the trail just outside Erwin by the Baptist Church. You bet everybody was looking forward to that. I headed on down the mountain. Every step I could take this afternoon would make the walk into town shorter tomorrow. I made it down to my last major gap. It was getting late in the day, but I thought I could make it up out of a deep holler full of laurel into the last evening light. I did, and found a good fire scald on a slight hill below the trail. No rain, the setup was smooth, I was asleep in no time.

Day 9

I was more than anxious to get on the trail today. I had a good elevation profile, sunshine, cook-out, and my sweetheart (assuming I could find her with a cell phone) just in front of me. The early morning still had quite a bit of nip to the air. It was still a few miles to the No Business shelter where I found a spring almost on the trail. Jabs and Sonshine caught up to me even with my 6 mile head start for the day. 

Overall, my 9 miles into town went by pretty quickly. There was more "up" than I anticipated, but my pack was now light enough to shuffle-jog the downhills when I was so inclined. I came out of the woods right at Uncle Johnny's Hostel just as Jabs and Sonshine were leaving it headed to the feed. I think they had showered at the hostel but I skipped that part and just followed them. 

There were hot dogs, hamburgers, slaw, taters, macaroni salad, and several different homemade desserts -all you wanted to eat. The Zion Baptist Church is wonderful. I chatted with several of them over the course of a few hours. They had a big homemade smoker on wheels with a smoke vent shaped like a pig head on one end and a metal rod wound up like a pig tail on the other. It was big enough and equipped to hang and smoke two whole pigs. It sort of reminded me of Breadzilla. They were a great bunch with hearts of pure gold.

 The Canadian I saw the first hour of my hike on the trail 8 days earlier let me use his cellphone to call my Honeybunn. I talked her into packing for a night on the town in Hot Springs. She  showed up a couple hours later. First we took, Jabs up to the Walmart for re-supply and back to the hostel. We exchange contact info and I told him to give us a call if he needed anything when he got to Damascus. 

We headed across the mountains through  Devils Fork gap, but this time by hybrid instead foot. The town was pretty full, but we took the last room in town above the Spring City Grill and listen to the live music and even livelier crowd through the window on the porch below us until well into the evening. Unlike my prior Sunday preparing for the bad weather, the next day was a leisurely stroll through town checking out the shops on a bright, extra warm spring day. We spent an hour in a hot tub at the town resort down by Spring Creek, packed, and we headed across the river toward home.

The End.

Development

In sonata-allegro form, a popular musical format of the late 18th and early 19th century in Europe. The composer 

A. The first section states a musical theme, a catchy melody perhaps-the Exposition.

B. The second section develops the musical themes with melodic fragmentation derived from the theme, new harmonies, key changes, sundry variations limited only by the composer's imagination -the Development.


C. The third section recapitulates the initial theme in a more robust, vivid, climatic fashion -the Recapitulation.

Day 3


I was anxious to get into town, as most any hiker usually is and I'd only been out 2 days. And most of these hikers hadn't seen a trail town for over a hundred miles. Unless they had shuttled or hitched into Gatlinburg, TN a week back in the Smokies -not exactly a trail town -they hadn't seen any town.  There is Standing Bear Hostel near where I got on the trail that I hear kinda reminds you of civilization. Many or most hikers use hostels for resupply and a respite from the woods and weather. I just haven't been out there enough to use one. They provide vital services to the hiker -shuttles to a town, a roof, a kitchen, showers, laundry, little mini-vacations from the trail. Towns on the trail provide all the above plus US Postal Service, a full service grocery store (think ice cream), a vibrant nightlife as in saloons and women perhaps (let's face it -owls and fog just don't cut it for most young, unattached men after a few days), the occasional hiker-fed (oh yeah!) from a charitable organization, or even a music festival on a weekend perchance.


I packed, ate light, and headed down the ridge toward town after a drizzly, damp evening. It was an easy 4+ into Hot Springs.

As in Damascus, the trail goes right through the middle of town which is very practical for a pedestrian. I by-passed Smoky Mt. Diner in lieu of something perhaps more interesting down the street. I did hit the Dollar General right next door along with about a dozen other hikers. I had carried way more food than necessary because I'm new to this resupply, drop-box, bounce box game. I should have carried 2-3 days of food, sent a drop box to Bluff Mt Outfitters right down the street, on the trail even, and maybe grabbed a few things at the $Gen. As it was, I carried 8+ extra pounds of food across two mountains and 35 miles for no good reason except as a vaccination against future ignorance perhaps. Heck, the outfitter even had a nice little section of real, natural foods. That's almost too good.


So, I didn't need too much food even though the next trek was about 70 miles to Erwin, TN. I bought some sunflower seeds, raisins, a dozen eggs, and a pack of large tortillas. What I really needed was some thermals. I've misplaced my light merino shirt, and have not had any bottoms for a while. Of course there were more hikers in the outfitter than the $Gen. and the Canadian came in and told me "may be a little snow tonight according to the weather" I needed no convincing. Of course a little snow can be nice. It looks pretty in pictures and such. It was the side order of rain and sever wind that was supposed to be coming in with it that I sort of dreaded. Unfortunately, Jeff at MRO was out of the thermals I needed before I left, but BMO in Hot Springs had some nice 33Minus mid-weight. I also got an NGS map of the region mainly for night reading. The world famous white blazes are plenty enough to navigate  by and I pulled my section out of AWOL's AT Guide book for an every so helpful almost mile by mile synopsis of the trail. If you're out for more than a day or two, you need it. The town maps, way point  mileage, water sources, and elevation profiles are priceless. Maybe not perfect in every regard, but still priceless. 


I hauled my loot across the street to the Spring City Grill for a hamburger, fries and pair of beers. And not no "who cares cause hikers will eat anything" burger and no big corporate beer neither. It was a burger with sprouts, avocado, provolone... (you get the picture) and a pair of Sweetwater 420 extra pale ales from the tap. 
Plus, early Sunday PM live music. It's not much more than a hole in the wall with a porch by a creek, but put it on your list when you're in town. It's right across the street from the outfitter.


That didn't quite fill me to the top and the waitress suggested the coffee-sweet shop across the street. Meh. But as I was sitting there absorbing a brownie, I dodged a heavy rain shower. Afterwards, I bumped into Puddlejumper again who was out for a  few days with knee pain and I bummed some duct tape for my feet. Then I repacked everything and headed out of town across the French Broad River back into the woods. T'was a gloomy day, but I was feeling fat and sassy.


Here's where the Development starts.


True, I sat out a rain at the sweet shop, and I hit the trail only slightly damp, but the weather was looking crappy with a forecast of crappier. It was warm enough at the moment, and you can boost you temp a bit by just picking up the pace if need be. But no matter how hard you walk, you can't make the sunshine. To live on the trail for very long, you have to make the sun shine from within. There was a little tent city on the trail by the river leaving town. On a fair day it might have had a more positive  vibe. Not today though. It just made me think of people with few options. The trail soon turned up a cliff toward a promontory rock called Lover's Leap -about a 400' leap that would no doubt cure about any case of love sickness. From there the trail flowed gradually out of the river gorge into the woods and up. And up. Which is typical when leaving a gap or town of course. Not many people on the trail today. Thrus have a somewhat more flexible time window than a short sectioneer. Leaving a nice town on a bad day is kinda silly if you don't have to. Up behind me comes a stout gal, Darwin, I found out later. Looked like she could handle about anything headed her way. We were both toiling our way toward the Tanyard Gap area for the evening. The gap was only a few miles out of town by the highway and only 6 by the trail. If the weather did get too uncomfortable,  it would be easy to bail, hitch back to town, dry out, and re-group. When I got there the cold and wind were starting to find their groove. It was starting to rain, the wind was whippin' and getting dark. Yeap, time to set up camp.


Wind is always an issue living out doors and more so when sleeping in a hammock You want to take every advantage you can squeeze from the terroir. I'm usually a good squeezer. I found a fair-sized, partially natural depression by the trail and road, good hanging trees, and almost no wind. Against the cold and rain -you do your best. I got in my bag and put on all my clothes. By morning, I could hear a little ice pelting my tarp. It was a rough night, but it never got really, really bad. 6.45 of 10 on the misery scale maybe. 


Day 4


Even when the rain and whatever stopped a little after daylight, it was hard to leave the relative warmth of my cocoon. When I did, I built a fire. Surprisingly,there was little trouble finding dry enough wood to get a good fire going quickly, although a little alcohol on the kindling helped. I built the fire on a rock about knee high up the side of the hill to cook on and warm by. The rock wasn't flat and I spilled 2 of the three eggs I put in my little skillet. I added one to what was left, cooked, wrapped and ate. My kilt was damp so I threaded the belt loops in a long pole and toasted it high above the flames. Warm clothes always feel good in the cold even if they are a little smoky. I packed and headed up the mountain.

It was less than a stellar day for me. My overall system had not adapted to trail life. Maybe I really wasn't getting all the calories I needed. I wasn't muscle sore but my energy and overall fitness just weren't what they once were. Maybe I was tired, and a little bummed about that. Mentally it wasn't turning out to be my day. The sun came out but the cold wind never stopped. I crept up Job Creator Mt (formerly Rich Mt) counting every 1/16 mile -one minute too hot, one minute too cold, one minute too hot and too cold at the same time. At the top, finally, I freakishly decided to blue-blaze (side trail) to the fire tower. Another guy and I climbed. There was still a little snow in the corners of the open cabin. We just couldn't stand the icy wind for any real time. But one thing stood out. A tall  mountain ridge to the east with snow covering the top 500' of elevation. Wasn't sure which mountain it was, Big Bald maybe, but I was pretty sure we were headed for it. A compass and some gloves would have helped on the ID.


Up the trail, the Spring Mt shelter was packed at mid afternoon. I stopped to cook my standard fare -by now quinoa and dal. I gave some to Zephyr, a Siberian husky like my grand dawg only a male with a trail hardened look. I let him wash my cook pot too. I had no interest in staying at or even near the shelter. I could do a few miles to get lower and out of some of the wind maybe. On this leg I met up with Train and Big Bear. Amiable guys fun to hang out with. We all stayed at Deep Gap along with Smokehawk, his gal, and some others. In the gap, the wind wasn't too bad and I did one better. I dropped down a little further and eliminated the wind entirely from my camp space by hanging on the lea side of the slope. Found that hanging on a slight slope was also better for manipulating my gear while in my hammock. 


Funny that it took me so long to figure this out, but the Hennessey I've hung in for years is a bottom enter/exit and sealed with a bug net above. My hammock for this trip is a home made rig by Bankheadboy. He gave me the hammock to try out  2 years ago and sadly I only recently got 'round to  testing it. My bad. It has so much more room than a Hennessey, and an attached side pocket that I can fit half my pack into for easy access in the night, plus the ridge line can still be used for socks and stuff. For the tree ends, it has two, detached, heavy duty web straps that run through clinch rings and  have you hanging in minutes -no knots. It lacks an integrated tarp but that's no biggy because for camping I like a little more room than Hennessey gives anyway and I usually put up a second tarp anyways. Lack of a bug fly may become an issue. We'll see. I borrowed Beth and Dan's under-quilt and it snugged to it naturally.




Day 5

While I was out of the wind, it sounded like a train not too far up on the mountain behind us all night. I sat in my hammock the next morning and cooked a couple more eggs and found out alcohol fires are a little tricky to put out in leaves because the flames are almost invisible. So be careful out there, or carry a fire extinguisher.  


I hit the trail slightly ahead of the others and the weather turned out pretty good for the day, an improvement at least. I stopped at Log Cabin Dr where a sort of backwoods hostel was aledged to exist. The others caught up and said they were going to walk the .6 miles to the hostel for a fried lunch. Their posted flyer said they were serving catfish hoagies. That was more than I could resist, plus I needed some water. I told them I would be along after I repacked  my gear. So I'm walking up a little hill on a gravel road passing a log cabin about  30 yards off on the left. A man comes running out the door and says, "Hey, I have something for you." Sure enough, he gave me bamboo walking stitch that he had seasoned, stained and varnished. He said it was the first he'd given away that year. I don't usually use a stick unless I'm really tired, climbing steep, or in a rock scramble and need it for balance. At those times I just find one on trail that I can discard when finished. But this one is too nice to leave behind, I thanked him for it and I still have it. Never did find the hostel or the Train Gang, but returning to the trail, I met a big fellow who said he was getting off the trail at the hostel due to knee problems and he gave me his water and I thanked him profusely.


It was a long slow climb up into the Bald Mountains. I think there was a fire tower or observation tower on a blue-blaze, but I resisted the urge this time. But on Bald, I got into one of the prettiest rock scrambles I've been in. At the start of that section, there was a warning sign and and a blue-blazin', alternate route suggested in case of bad weather. That just made me curious.  The trail snaked and crawled  over half a mile along a razor sharp mountain ridge. One side flowed into a vast network of mountain hollers pretty much as God had made it and the other looked straight down onto a green patchwork of flat farmland about as far as you could see. It was pink possum awsum! I gotta go back there when I can. Maybe wait until the weather is  a little more interesting.  Actually, there was a pretty big dark cloud, flat bottomed like from Max Patch, that looked like it might be trying to stir up trouble down in the west. I didn't have time or desire to wait for trouble today so I kept moving.


The stick was a big help through here, but it didn't save all the eggs in my basket. Actually the eggs were in their styro-pac as I had bought them strapped to the back of my pack. As I was twisting through a particularly tight place in the rocks I heard that styro-pac rip. That couldn't be good. As soon as I came to a fair place, I set my pack off to assess the damage. When I did an intact egg roll out of its mooring, across the top of a good sized rock and over the edge with absolutely no hesitation. Without thinking, I grabbed it in mid-air, else I just don't think it would have survived the fall. There were two causalities though.


I walked out of the rocks back down into the trees with a slight hope of making it a bit closer to Jerry's Cabin shelter. Near darkness and the thought of that dark cloud coming across my ridge forced me to settle for hanging on a fairly steep lay about 30 yards down from the trail and ridge top. The rain poured all night long. By now though, rain hitting that tarp was little more than a lullaby.


Day 6


At daylight the rain was gone. It was just elevation-appropriate cold and damp. I scrapped out a little flat spot with my machete for my stove on the mountainside and scrambled my last three eggs without incident. Slapped them on a big ol' white, trail-ragged tortilla with a generous dose of herbed -up Parmesan and had a birthday breakfast without having to exit my sleeping bag. If I'd had some greens and a tomato, I couldn't have done better in town.

I passed Jerry's shelter with barely a  "howdy" or slowing down really. At the top of my next little climb I met two sectioneers about my age winded from coming 4 miles up the other side. One said they had encountered 8 inches of snow on Big Bald about 15 miles southbound of Erwin where they started a few days back. I guess that's what I saw from the fire tower. That's a pretty good snow for late April even at 5000'+ feet.  By the time I'd made it down one gap before Flint Mt Shelter I had to stop and tape a tiny, tiny blister on a little toe. How something so little can be such an aggravation, I don't know. 

The day had turned out sunny, but cool enough for good walking. I cooked a shelter lunch and ate with several familiar faces. It's readily apparent that I'm carrying too much food or not eating enough. With less weight I'd go faster, but need more calories - it's a vicious conundrum.  I wanted to be averaging about 15 miles per day, but even 12 has seemed  too hard except the first two days. 

It was a more or less uneventful stroll into the Devil's Fork Gap road crossing. Then crossing another little ridge and a back road, I stop at a stream for a bandanna bath. Slopes caught up to me and we talked about the vagaries of trail life. He camped just a little ways further up Sugarloaf Mt., but I had hopes of making it up to the gap. It was a lovely climb, only a little taxing, beautiful wildflowers and foliage, a little stream with cascades, non-technical, and excellent trail running possibilities.  A young dude, a hanger,  caught up to me not far below the gap. And guess what else caught up to me. Yes, Rain and Darkness. The sturm und drang that has barked at my heels and bitten my rear for days now. Today has been warmer than the past few. I wonder if this will turn into a real thunderstorm.

End of part 2.

One Day 

So many miles, so little time. 

Thru-hike the AT? 

Sure. 

One Day. 

Well, every year, like on a certain "one day" in April, I'm reminded that I don't have  a endless supply of "one days". In  light of that realization early this month, I decided I'd get more serious about seeing more "sections" of the AT rather than waiting to see the whole thing in one day-after-day of one-end-to-the-other hiking. In the parlance, I'd be a section hiker too instead of just a  wannabe thru hiker. 

Right about now is what you'd call thru-hiker season in the south. Most thrus hiking north-bound (NoBos) start at Springer Mt, GA in March or April giving themselves a generous 5-6 month window to make the journey to Mt Kathadin in Maine before bad weather sets in and the state park there closes for the season. Lots of sectioneers avoid the trail about this time to get some real alone time in woods. But luckily, I can get that about anytime, and getting to meet new trail people, especially those engaged in an epic journey is a plus in my book. 

The section I chose this time starts just north of the Smoky Mt NP and extends north bound as far as Roan Mt High Knob -hopefully. That's about 130+ miles and I'd allowed about 9 and a half days for completion. I've covered most of the AT from Roan Mt, TN/NC north to Groseclose, VA. This trip would be a healthy chunk of miles to add to it though maybe a bit ambitious given the way my foot has kept me off the trail most all winter -the 15lbs of pure fat I've put on the belt line are not a plus either. But I could easily get off the trail at a couple of different points along the way and hitch or call for a shuttle if things didn't go well for whatever reason.

After about a 2 hr drive south, Bonnie dropped me off at a popular trailhead known as Davenport Gap at Exit 451 on I-40. A gentleman about my age plus a few perhaps, was just disappearing into the woods. I strapped on my pack and was said goodbye about 9:30am on Friday 4/20. 

I've switched from my cavernous old Northface external frame pack for winter to the more modern Golite Lite-Speed 3000 cu. in. pack for spring. I bought it in '08. The pack has it pluses no doubt but -I have yet to exploit them. It seems to fall shy as the "fast" pack it claims to be (too heavy), and not enough volume to keep you fed for 4-6 days in the woods between re-supply points unless you are really, really attentive to what your doing.  For this trip and volume's sake I did at least switch to a down 45° sleeping bag with a silk Cocoon liner that theoretically brings you to about 35°. It has been a warm winter and spring for sure, but 35° would right on the edge of relative comfort at elevation in the southern highlands right now. If the mountains take a notion, they can be cantankerous weather-wise.

So climbing the initial 20+ concrete steps up into the woods, I'm slightly overloaded at 33-35lbs by the time I had strapped a few tortillas, a half dozen boiled eggs onto the pack exterior and put about 4 lbs of water in my hydration bladder. I was at the 30' mark in the first 5 mile climb up Snowbird Mountain and already having second-thoughts on my fitness to make the miles per day I'd hoped. But as I warmed up my confidence returned somewhat and before long I had caught up with 2 thrus -the man from Ottawa, Canada, and a woman from Cologne, Germany. They had been on the trail for over 200 miles and that alone gives them considerably more experience, if not also fitness,  than I can claim.  I'm always amazed, envious, and a little ashamed that this trail that has been in my backyard all my life, draws international attention, and I've ventured out no further on it than I have. I also caught up to 2 other sectioneers - a couple of guys from just across the mountain in Greeneville, TN. They were just starting that morning also. Their plans were to make the 30+ miles into Hot Springs, NC in 3 days. 

Looking back toward the Smokies from Snowbird and the lady from Cologne.

We made to the first top -Snowbird in about 3 hrs. The sky didn't look quite as threatening as the picture makes out. It was just good, dramatic, ambiance for the 360° spectacular view and had nothing to do with weather I thought. I nibbled for lunch and headed down the back side.

I was getting hungry within a few more miles though. Hungry enough to stop at Groundhog Creek shelter for a table to cook on and the water supply. 3 young, stout, dudes came in before I'd finished for their afternoon snack as well. One's name was Gravy, but I can't remember the other 2. But one, whose feet were looking pretty rough, showed this old dog my newest favorite trick. I still can't believe I had not seen it before -pack flippin'. Sorry, I can't find a decent video to show, but he said he saw it online. Set your pack at your feet facing away from you. Bend and put your hands/arms through the shoulder straps grasping the pack behind at the base. Pick it up over your head and let it slide down your arms onto your back. Your shoulder strap adjustment is retained, just buckle your belly and chest straps and you're ready to rock and roll. Took me like less than 60 seconds to  do it right the first time. You get better with practice. I hope his feet got better. Mine were doing OK so far.

Trillium along this and many of the sections I hit grew in profusion. Coming up Snowbird, I saw in one patch what must have been over and acre of the white T.Grandiflorum in bloom. This picture is a creamy white/yellow I don't recall having seen before this trip.

The second climb, not so ornery as the first of the day, was to bring me to Max Patch. Max Patch has some fame to it, but I'd never been on any of this section, so I was looking forward to seeing it. Getting close, it had been a long day and water had been slim along the way. I just had to stop at the stream just as you're approaching the bald area. I brought a small Katadyn pump/ceramic filter I've had for years. It takes a little time to draw 60oz of water. Light was getting short so I had no time to waste. Normally I hold out for a source spring and drink it without treatment if at all possible, The day was pushing on and I'd surely done over 13 miles  and was tired. I passed an older gent set up almost in the trail hanging his bear bag. He had a watch and reminded me I had less than an hour to dark. I was determined to at least catch early sunset on top before I had to attend to hanging my bed for the night. 

Max is a luscious, little, high green knob mowed and maintained by volunteers to keep it as grassy as I found it. Otherwise, it'd probably grown up in hawthorne scrub. I meet a thru hiker up there, Puddlejumper, and he told me they used to keep it cleared up there for a little airport. I believed him since just the day before along the Creeper Trail I'd seen a little plane take off from a pasture.

Looking north.

As many of you know, Erica took time paint a picture from a different picture I posted by cellphone and she posted it for my birthday.

She captured the relaxed and yet "alert" nature of  the place never even having set foot there. Exquisite. 

Looking east from the east side

Looking back to the south from the east side

The multi-coloured tree buds almost made me think of a late fall day when most of the leaves are on the ground but a few still hang.

It would end up getting a little chilly that night, but I wouldn't have minded finding two good trees to hang my hammock just off the bald in the edge of the scrub. I could find nothing suitable. There was also to be a meteor shower after midnight that I might get to see. I did find an old pair of cheesy sunglasses half buried in the grass. They would go well with my blue/green tye-dyed kerchief I found up at Thomas Knob shelter a few years ago. 

I walked a little further to a popular campsite area about a quarter mile past the top just in the edge of the big trees. I had to use my headlight to finish the setup and went straight to bed. First nights out I rarely sleep well but probably got 6 hours of sleep total.

Day 2

I woke and heard activity on the trail nearby of hikers going by. It seems to take me forever to get packed up of the mornings and I didn't even cook, I had a boiled egg or two and headed down the mountain. 

At the bottom of the ridge along a literal lawn of trout lilies and moss, I met a young trail runner, much less encumbered and making good time. Had I not been having such a good morning myself, I'd have been plenty envious.

I guess I passed the 3 dudes up at Roaring Fork Shelter because they caught up to me at Lemon Gap starting up Walnut Mt. There's a sad little shelter on top of Walnut Mt and warnings of rampant bear activity. As in bears will steal your unattended food bag, take it into the woods and eat it activity. All these shelters have fancy-smancy bear cables to help cut back on this problem. But I'd say bears police most of these shelters soon after everybody leaves for spilled and left-behind food. Sometimes they get impatient and will come into the shelters at night even with people in them, or so I've heard. I tend to sleep with my food and never had a problem on the grounds they don't want to risk a human encounter I guess. Shelter mice on the other hand are brazen. I rarely use a shelter overnight and try to be as clean as possible when cooking around one, but people, bears and mice are always going to interface on the food front.

Bluff Mt was next -a stunningly gorgeous place on vegetation alone as there are no real views. It started to drizzle as I was approaching the top so I hurriedly pitched my tarp right along the trail over some big rocks for a dry kitchen in case it rained hard while I took time for a cooked lunch.

A few years back I bought a little Snow Peak cook pot. It works, but the lid/skillet and bottom should snap together  and stay put better while you're carrying. But it's OK on the  cooking end. I'm using a alcohol penny-stove I made from two Starbucks energy drink cans. I love that little booger. I carried 20 oz of denatured alcohol for fuel and that puppy will boil water fast. Jeff out at Mt Rogers Outfitters gave me a couple pieces of aluminum flashing for a windscreen. An alcohol stove won't stand much wind and wind was on the menu everyday. Lunch today was quinoa from scratch and some dal I'd cooked and dehydrated for the trip wrapped in a large tortillia.  The rain got pretty heavy for a while but I waited it out and just watched the fog ebb and flo over a patch of Senecio. 

There are worse ways to loll away time.

The trail descending northbound off Bluff Mt was every bit as beautiful as what I experienced on Max Patch. It was a steep, steep jungle green almost vertical wall of wildflowers  -lots of Trilliam again. The trail had plenty of easy switch backs that made the walk easy.

A mossy burl.

A nice spring not far down for a fill-up.

A bear hole to step out of the rain if need be.

I made down to Garenflo Gap at a road and it was still 6.6 to Hot Springs. I had wanted to get a good bit closer to town to make for an easy morning walk-in, a quick re-supply, a burger, or two, and back out on the trail. 

I did cover a couple of more miles, not quite to the Deer Park shelter area. But I made about 14 miles for the day which I was OK with. The mechanical aspects of my feet were holding up quite well, but I was developing a couple of hot spots -near blisters -probably due to not having done much mileage in the inserts I've been using for a few weeks. They fill in my high arches nicely but rub some too. I had just enough duct tape to cover the situation. So I was  ready to do the best thing about backpacking which is to stop. Also darkness, and this time rain too, were pushing me to make a quick setup.

End of part one.

Lentil Cous Cous Curry

I conjured this dish up at our last Men's Winter Camp-out a few weeks ago and took some on our 4th of July trail run last year. Some people seem to like it as well as I do and have ask for a recipe. This was of course inspired by Manjula, my Indian grandma hero.

Lentil Cous Cous Curry.

Put about a cup and a half of red lentils in 4 and a litte more cups of water on the stove to a medium boil. Take a big skillet, preferably iron and heat it on the stove with about a 1/8-1/4 cup of olive oil on medium high. Put in, as it heats, a tablespoon or more each of whole black mustard seed and cumin seed. While that is heating chop fine a small onion and maybe a clove or two of garlic. When the seeds start to pop, stir in the onions. Chop fine and put in a green chili pepper. Take some fresh ginger root and grate it directly into the pan, 2-3 tablespoons at least. The lentils don't take too long and should be almost soft by the time onions are done. If need be, set them aside until the lentils are ready. Pour the lentils and leftover liquid into the skillet. Stir it all up, add salt to taste, at least a tablespoon of turmeric, cayenne pepper to the desired level of hot -I used the chipolte smoked kind, and if you can get it, a big pinch or two of asafoetida. Turn the heat way down or off. You'll have to experiment a little but, add a 1/4 to a 1/2 cup of cous cous -enough to soak up the liquid. If it comes out too dry in 5-10 minutes just add a little water. None of the quantities are critical. I like it a little mushy with flat bread, sliced tomatoes, cukes, or whatever as a meal, but on the trail running, a dough consistency in a baggie I think is better.

Happy trails, JJ

The Orchard

Thought I'd better jot down a few notes on the fruit trees I'm putting in. We have a few acres of southern slope the has a natural gas transmission line across it. Two years ago they leased from me a 25' temporary easement to lay in a new line. Now that work is complete We're left with about 600' stripe of open area that I thought might be a good place to put in some fruit trees. I ask a friend and cidering expert, Tom Peterson about where to get some old varieties and he highly recommended Tim Hensley of Urban Homestead, practically in downtown Bristol. Sure enough, Tim was a great help and quite patient in helping me make selections for 17 trees. I ended up with 5 pear trees 1-Seckel, 2- Bartletts , 1-Moonglow, and 1 - Potomac. On the apple side (descriptions here), 3- Myers Royal Limbertwig, 1 - Calville Blanc D'hiver, 1-Arkansas Black, 1 - King David, 1 - Yellow Transparent, 1 -York Imperial, 2 - Goldrush, 1 - Winesap, and 1 - Grimes Golden. The weather has been unseasonably warm this winter and I hope this will give the bareroot stock time to catch up new root growth on what probably should have been a fall planting before the weather turns hot. Also as instructed, I pruned 1/3-1/2 last year's growth back to balanced the root stress of transplanting. Watering is of vital importance in their first year or two and I need to put in some time of drip system to help them along. I was unable to water them at planting, but we had a good soaking rain the day after and hope that will suffice. I have purchased 6" wove-wire fencing that I'm going to use to put a 5' hoop around each tree as deer are notorious fruit tree eaters.

So give us 3-5 years, stop by and we'll peel and apple or have a drop of cider.

Tiramisu -an essay in decadence

Our good friend and ultrarunner Jenny hosted a wonderful dinner party for a few "Damascus-y types" just days before her BIG run at the Mountain Masochist Trail Run a few weeks ago. From hors d'oeuvres to dessert it was scumptious and matched only by her subsequent 9hr 45min finish time of those 53miles Masochist miles a couple of days later. Together -mind boggling, but she can tell that story.

Anyways, her dessert was tiramisu. I was inspired to try my own hand in the endeavor.

Besides, I've always been curious about its most ravishing of ingredients -that most excellent of soft cheeses -mascarpone. We have a share of a milk cow so fresh, raw cream is handy on a weekly basis. With a starter from cheesemaking.com, mascarpone is the easiest of cheeses to make. Heat a quart of cream to 86°, stir in the starter, pour into a clean mason jar, cover, leave 12hr at room temp to set, pour into a strainer lined with cheesecloth (fine), let drain for 12hrs, and voila. If you've never had it, promise me you will.

Our next accomplice in decadence is ladyfingers (recipe). Quite bland as far as cookies go. I lean more toward a brownie-type and ladyfingers are the opposite -light, airy, spongy, and the definition of persnickety to make. Fortunately, the ladies for tiramisu don't have to be beauty queens to work well. Basically, you whip egg yolk and sugar, sift cake flour onto the mix and let stand. Whip the egg whites ino a merainge. Gently fold the merainge into the flour/egg yolk mix so as to maintain a fluffy texture.


Put into a pastry sack with a half inch nozzle and pipe out 3" lines of the foamy batter.
















Bake 8-10 mins. They will be a little crisp and and little spongy.

Now the filling (recipe). Essentially it is a dalliance of whipping fat and sugar into a lather of ecstasy.

After separating 6 eggs, put the yolks and sugar into a double boiler and stir constantly for 10 min.





















Let it cool slightly, add the mascarpone, and beat until smooth and creamy.
























In another bowl. beat heavy cream until stiff. I used store-bought cream this time but plan to experiment. By hand with a spatula, folded these two together gently, until just barely of one color and consistency.

Back to the ladies. Put them all in a covered container larger than a quart jar, but smaller than a washing machine. A gallon jar is about right or slightly smaller. Add about a half a cup of some combination of coffee and chocolate liqueurs. I love coffee flavoring, but erring on the side of chocolate is a weakness of mine. Tumble them around until all the liquid is absorbed.

Use pieces of the cookies to make a pie shell in a glass dish or a springform pan.






A 9" pan is too big for the volume these recipes produce. A 6" is probably too small. I'll have to experiment again on that also. You can drizzle in more liqueur if you think some are a little dry, but don't drowned them. Now carefully spoon about half the filling into the shell.
























Dust the top with cocoa powder and put down another layer of ladies. (Yes, you can drizzle again.)























Spoon in the remaining filling, dust with cocoa powder again. Top the whole affair off with dark chocolate shaved off a bar with a vegetable peeler. You just made some of the best tiramisu on the planet.







I promise.

PS. Later in the day, Jenny, Dennett and I, attended our first Hash Hound Harriers ramble. THAT was an essay in decadence.

Iron Mountain Trail Run

and Fall Camp-out 2011

VA Highlands

Since our annual event was to begin on a Friday this year, I tried to pull things together at work as early as possible on the day of, but it was well past noon before I could actually head home. To exacerbate the rush and general giddiness of the day, I had done nary a smack of packing. Counting on my standing pack to be more or less camp & run ready, I dragged it out of the attic and quickly shifted seasonal gear and garb from spring straight into winter barely touching the clutch. According to the forecast, the trickster weather we've been tussling with all year it seems was about to deal off the bottom of the deck again with a forecast of light snow on the mountains that were still just beginning to try on some new fall outfits. Last weekend several of the group had got an early autumn baking the last few miles of our long run back into Damascus. Our transition and weather acclimatization this weekend was to be as subtle as a pie in the face.

Beth, our fearless leader for this event and most all of them really, made the arrangements for a more formal camping destination this year and booked our nebulous sized group for Grindstone campground. It proved to be a prophetically wise choice considering some of our prior venues that we might have revisited. Grindstone is a quiet, clean government facility at the foot of Mt Rogers near the divide of the Tennessee Valley and New River Valley watersheds. Since she lives just down the street, we carpool to as many events as we can. So within an hour of my hitting my doorstep, we had my vehicle packed to the gills with camping gear and runner chow to last a couple of days. We headed for Damascus and the mountain beyond.

After an hours drive, we checked in with campground management and were directed to campsite 40. We set up camp, scavenged firewood from a nearby tornado patch, and brought the stew to a boil. Rob showed up from N. Carolina, and before dark, Jason who has been to several if not all the fall camp-outs, rolled in from Tennessee with a good supply of dry seasoned firewood. Jason is a mountain biker and was hoping to find a new trek to explore leaving us to the running. Several runners couldn't make it until the next morning but the four of us indulged in non-stop runner chitchat and unabashed carbo-loading well into the unseasonably chilled night. The weather shamans had accurately envisioned rain by 10pm and with temps slicing down through the 40s who knew what we might wake to.

My average weekly milage has been below what I've done in past years since last winter. I've gotten back to a regular schedule of running this past month hoping to let consistency develop into runs of longer duration. I'm beginning to feel safe and confident with mid-teens distance if I take it easy. For the first day this weekend, I planned to make an early start after daylight, 60-90 minutes ahead of the group and given their speed over ground, anticipated them catching me 12-15 miles into the 20 or so planned miles. The second day, I'd do a lot less, 8-12 if I hadn't broken anything the day before.

I had a good night's sleep. Light rain and drizzle for at least a few minutes it seemed about every half hour. I started putting my run together about 7 am. With the weather change , clothing becomes an issue. It seemed way too early in the season to be thinking about tights, but tights and shorts felt good,especially when then first sleet shower began just after daylight. Our elevation at campsite was about 1700' lower than the highpoint of today's course and with temps already flirting with freezing and wind a given, things could get downright nasty up at the top. Also making a return to the wardrobe -a compression short-sleeve and plain technical long-sleeve under a Torrent shell. Socks were short wool Icebreakers and tall Darn Tough wools. Shoes were Montrail Masochists -well beyond prime, a knitted wool toboggan, 1 20 cent glove and one $7 glove rounded out the clothing. Since I knew some springs along the way, 2 hand-held water bottles would be adequate even though I'd be out there 6hrs or more.

I started out alone just after 8am. The trail leading out of the campground up to the Mt Rogers Trail had caution tape and blocked by an official sign saying simply “CLOSED”. “How Closed” it did not say. Really? Very Closed? Mildly Closed? Closed to tourists in sandals? I ducked through the tape and kept on jogging. In a tenth of a mile I had only encountered a small blow-down or two until I came to the tornado patch. Last April, our region was hit by several very powerful tornadoes -quite rare since mountains are decidedly not tornado-friendly topography. The trail was closed after all. VERY CLOSED. CLOSED with sugar on top. There was in front of me a half dozen acres of twisted, splintered and downed timber -enough to make a chainsaw faint. I picked my way around the upper edge of the ruin and found the main trail leading up the mountain in less than a quarter mile. It was an easy bushwhack – about Class 2 I'd say – No trail, but open woods, not very steep.

Once on the main trail, I began to make a little better time, but wasn't feeling as spry as I would have liked, plus I didn't want to push too much to soon so I jog-walked the steady moderate grade up to the ridge shelf where the Lewis Fork trail would spur to the east and continue up to the crest zone. By this point I was picking up patches of snow on trees still green with summer.

Somewhat spooky looking actually. We've had enough unusual aberrations in the local weather this year, high powered tornadoes, several more 90°+ days than usual and now and early snow even for this elevation. None by themselves would make you think much, but the frequency of these events at least is giving weathermen job security.

After a little bit of downhill from the ridge shelf, I get on the Lewis Fork Trial -primarily a horse trail but not too many muddy patches. It has a good grade and is not too technical. The weather begins to lean more toward snow flurries and less drizzle as I climb. As I finally break into the crest zone,

I'm greeted by a small herd of longhorns -half a dozen mommas most with calves on them. The calves were totally curious, but the mommas were skiddish and easily scared off the trail. I used some diplomacy as you don't want a momma to feel like her calf is threatened -especially if she has 18” horns growing out the sides of her head. I took a gel-break as I came to the intersection of the Pine Mt Trail a little ways further. Turning toward Scales, between the snack and the downhill,I began to feel more in the groove.

It was 2 miles into Scales and I expected some activity there, but of three camping trailers, all seemed to be empty. Without really slowing down I proceeded southbound on the AT up Stone Mt. The wind and snow while by no means severe, weren't conducive to standing around gaulking considering the open exposure.


It's only a short climb to the open ridge line and a very pleasant mile or so through open fields. The trail then ducked back into the woods, which blocks the wind and the snow dies down as I drop elevation.



After a few minutes the sun popped out. It lasts about 2 minutes.



By the time I came out into the little clearing, just before Wilson Creek the season and scenery looked more like fall than winter. Near Wise Shelter I refilled my water bottles and a little later bumped into a person backpacking. He was doing the same loop I was on in the opposite direction.

As I began the climb up Wilburn Ridge, I met 4 more backpackers and by the time I went through Massie Gap it was a regular traffic jam of hikers and packers headed in both directions. I figured I might see a soul or two out today, but I saw at least 2 dozen. Wilburn Ridge with a little weather is good place to put a little polish on your Bad-ass Badge. It's a rocky, rocky, climbing trail -highly exposed with wind in your face or from the left, but about as good a view as you'll find in the east.

By the time I hit the high point of the run around 5300', the wind was whippin' in the clouds and fog, and there was still a little snow and ice to keep things interesting. I had been expecting the gang to catch me somewhere along through here. They might have gotten a later start, but even a half hour late they would catch me somewhere down the north face of Rogers. I figured traveling at 4 miles an hour for them and 3 for me we'd meet at mile 12 with my one hour head start. But by mile 14, I had seen no sign of them following me up the ridge. I left a mark in the snow to show them I'd headed down into the laurel on the Pine Mt Trail from Rhododendron Gap.

I ended up eating all three gels, a handful of dates, and drained my second round of 50z of water before I made it back. That was about right, as I never felt especially tired anywhere along the way. I was comfortable most all the way.


My cheap glove did as well as the expensive one -after mile 15, both hands suddenly got cold, but were only cold for a mile or two and then my feet got cold for a short spell too even though they already had been wet for several hours without notice. As I came back down into the bushwhacking section, I took a different short cut, otherwise it would have been a full 20 miles. By the time the rest of the gang showed up, I was standing under a hot shower at the campground bath house. They intentionally had taken a left at Rhododendron Gap which added about 2 miles to their route. I was close to 7hrs on my feet and I still felt pretty good at the end. So taking it easy paid off and I feel a marathon or 50k is not too far out of reach at this point.

We ate and talked and laughed continuously until turning in for the night. The weather dried some, but stayed cold all night. Jason fixed a hearty breakfast (including bacon) the next day but we decided that yesterday's run had been so special, that running anything today would detract from that experience. So, we packed our gear and headed down the valley.