THE STORIES WE COULD TELL
After having Thanksgiving
week off, I got back into the swing of things on Monday with…another day
off. In fact, I had two more days off,
thanks to a last minute cancellation. I
decided to take advantage of my newfound freedom. Due to family obligations and football games, I’d only managed a
single dayhike during the previous week.
I decided to hike on Monday and take advantage of another day of perfect
November weather.
I was thrilled that Rocky
was able to join me. Rocky was the
leader of my college church group, and he introduced me to hiking and
backpacking during those years. Prior
to arriving at Appalachian State, my hiking experience had been limited to the
occasional nature walk. I often wonder
what I’d be doing in my free time these days if I hadn’t met Rocky.
Since college I’ve kept in
touch with Rocky, and we occasionally get together for a hike or a caving
trip. In July of 2004, Rocky performed
the wedding ceremony for Christy and me.
I was looking forward to seeing Rocky again, and hearing some of his
stories. Rocky is an accomplished
storyteller. Unfortunately, oral story
telling has become something of a lost art in the age of television and the
internet.
I met Rocky at the Folk Art
Center on the Blue Ridge Parkway just east of Asheville at 9am. Rocky had had a leisurely morning, as he
lives only a couple of miles away. From
there he followed me up the Parkway into the Craggy Mountains. Our plan was to run a shuttle so we could
hike a section of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail.
We dropped my car off at
Balsam Gap, which is a few miles southwest of the road to Mount Mitchell. We then rode together back to the Craggy
Gardens Visitors Center. That would
leave us with a fantastic 6-mile segment of the Mountains-to-Sea-Trail to
explore.
We started out under blue
skies on an unusually warm morning. We
couldn’t believe we were hiking in shorts and t-shirts in late November at an
elevation above 5000’. Rocky and I
followed Andie, Rocky’s golden lab, into the woods. Andie was definitely ready for a hike. Unfortunately I couldn’t bring Saucony, as she is still
recovering from her latest surgery. I
knew Saucony would be jealous when she smelled Andie on me that evening.
As we hiked, Rocky filled me
in on his recent 3-week trip to India.
One of the highlights of the trip had been an expedition to the glaciers
that give birth to the sacred Ganges River.
This was one of those trips where just getting to the trailhead is an
adventure. Rocky, his wife, and the rest
of their group endured a terrifying 12-hour drive through the Ganges River
Gorge. The drive was along a poorly
maintained 1-lane dirt road that clings to the cliffs thousands of feet above
the river. Needless to say, there are
no guardrails. To add to the
excitement, their taxi was driven by India’s version of Dale Earnhardt Jr. They hurtled along the edge of the cliff,
with the whitewater just a blur out the window thousands of feet below. Rocky and his wife spent much of the drive
holding on for dear life, wondering if the next blind curve was hiding a
landslide, a washout, or an oncoming truck.
Against all odds they
arrived safely late that night. The
next morning they attempted the 12-mile hike to the ice cave that is the source
of the Ganges. The Ganges is considered
a sacred river to the Hindu, and dozens of pilgrims joined them on the trail
that morning. Rocky saw more than
ordinary pilgrims though. At one point,
a bejeweled princess passed by, being carried on a litter. Does it really count as a pilgrimage if you
are carried there?
Unfortunately, Rocky didn’t
make it, as he succumbed to altitude sickness along the way. In all likelihood, a lack of sleep and the
harrowing drive to the trailhead contributed to the problems. He felt better once he returned to town,
except for the knowledge that they still faced another terrifying drive out of
the Himalaya. One of the women in their
group actually had a panic attack when she realized she’d have to get back in a
taxi with Abib Earnhardt.
By the time Rocky’s tales
from India concluded, (which also included stories of wild monkeys,
mass-cremation, and bodies ceremoniously floating down the sacred river), we
had reached a service road adjacent to the parkway. We took a break, and Rocky shared a tale from a long ago visit to
a Tibetan Monk residing in a cave in the Canadian Rockies. The Monk had lived there alone, in silence,
for more than 20 years. Rocky had visited
the Monk with his brother and a blind man.
Getting there while leading a blind man had been an incredible
adventure. Just reaching the cave
requires hiking a primitive trail along a raging, glacier-fed river. Shortly before reaching the caves, they had
to cross the river on four terrifying bridges.
The last of the bridges consists of a 70’ long log suspended high above
raging whitewater. Needless to say,
this bridge carries the ultimate penalty for failure.
I can’t possibly do justice
to the remainder of the tale. If you
know Rocky, you’ll just have to try talking him into sharing the story with
you!
After lunch we crossed the
Parkway and continued north along one of the trail’s most scenic segments. Our hike was much less hazardous, although
the occasional patch of ice required caution.
We crossed Bullhead Mountain and descended to a scenic area of open
heath balds. The views from here are
great, but Rocky improved upon them by finding a route to the top of a boulder
overlooking the entire area. The
boulder was just high enough to clear the surrounding trees, and the view was
stunning. My previous visits to the
area had been in the summer, when haze reduces long-distance views. Today though, we had a clear view of the
Smokies, the Balsam Mountains, and the Bald Mountains. Looking south revealed waves of mountains
receding towards Chimney Rock and Lake Lure.
Where had all those mountains come from? In all of my time hiking in the area, I’d never seen all those
peaks in that direction.
We had lunch there before
wandering on down the trail. More views
opened up as we hiked. The best was
probably an overlook of the Burntree Reservoir in the Asheville watershed. The reservoir looked like a pristine alpine
lake on this beautiful day. To the west
we had fine views of Seven Sisters Ridge, highlighted by the peaks of Greybeard
Mountain, Rocky Knobs, and the Pinnacle.
Below the ridge we could clearly see Glassmine Falls, which cascades
some 800’ towards the Reservoir.
We eventually had to pull
ourselves away. The trail led us to a
Parkway overlook, and the next stretch of path remained close to the road. Fortunately traffic was light on the Monday
after Thanksgiving, despite the perfect weather. The trail eventually left the road in favor of a steady climb
over a wooded summit. The forest here
is particularly attractive, as the area features Beech and Birch, Spruce and
Fir. We crested the hill, and a quick
descent brought us to my car at Balsam Gap.
We returned to Craggy
Gardens and parted ways. Before our
farewell though, we made plans for more hikes, and possibly a caving trip. After Rocky headed home, I decided to take
one more hike. It was still fairly
early, and I wanted to get a bit more mileage in before heading home. Fortunately the trail to Craggy Pinnacle is
nearby, and it was exactly what I was looking for. The well-traveled path leads ¾ of a mile to one of the most
scenic summits in the area.
A short, easy hike brought
me to a fork. From here, hikers can
choose between the upper or lower overlooks.
Both are nice, but I chose the upper overlook. I reached the top a couple of minutes later. I was surprised to find the summit deserted,
despite the presence of several cars in the park lot. The view was fantastic, but photos were challenging thanks to the
brilliant sun dropping towards the southwest horizon. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury of waiting there for
sunset. Instead I headed down, and
began the drive home.
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