GOODPEOPLE
“Here are your waters
So drink, and be
whole again
We are the good
people
The ones they told you about
One kiss of mother nature
Her spirit waits in light”
From “Goodpeople”,
by Widespread Panic
Montreat is a small community a few miles east
of Asheville, NC. The community includes
a college, a conference center (associated with the Presbyterian Church), and
residential areas. The community
includes 2500 acres of protected wilderness.
It’s refreshing that the community chose to protect such a significant
portion of its surroundings. The entire
valley and its surrounding ridges easily could’ve become overrun with vacation
homes.
The
entire area, including the protected wilderness, is private property. However, the people of Montreat
are generous enough to allow public access.
The wilderness includes an extensive trail network. In fact, some of the most scenic hikes in the
Black Mountains are on Montreat property.
A
lull in my work schedule left me with last week off. In fact, my only work obligations consisted
of short conference calls on Thursday morning and Friday afternoon. This provided me with the perfect opportunity
for my first backpacking trip since October.
Unfortunately, the weather last week was largely hostile to outdoor
recreation. By early in the week, it was
apparent that I had only a narrow window of opportunity for backpacking in dry
weather. That window was Wednesday &
Thursday. Regrettably, that window of
opportunity conflicted with my Thursday morning conference call.
I
decided to go backpacking anyway. I
spent a good bit of time trying to come up with a place where I could backpack
and still get a cell signal on Thursday morning. It just so happens that the Montreat area was the ideal choice. There is a campsite and shelter on Walker
Knob, a minor sub-peak of Greybeard Mountain.
A few minutes of walking beyond the shelter leads to a great view of the
Swannanoa River Valley and East Asheville.
I was confident I’d be able to get a strong cell signal there.
I
drove up to Black Mountain and on to Montreat on
Wednesday morning. I went straight on
the Greybeard Mountain Trailhead near the upper end of the Flat Creek
Valley. I was surprised to find a couple
of other cars and a van from Warren Wilson College there. Even though it was a mid-week trip in
February, it looked like I might have some company on the trail.
I
got Boone’s pack on him and leashed him for the initial walk down the
road. I shouldered my own pack, and we
headed back down to the Montreat Campground to start
our hike. The campground is closed in
the winter, but we found our way to campsite 21 and the beginning of the Rocky
Head Trail. We started up this trail
around 10am under sunny skies.
I’d
hiked the Rocky Head Trail once before, many years ago. Before this hike, I couldn’t remember why I
hadn’t hiked it again. Now my memory was
refreshed. The Rocky Head Trail is
rocky, steep, and tedious. Unfortunately
my heels were still raw from the previous weekend’s 14 mile hike in the South
Mountains. I applied Second Skin to both
heels that morning, but the steep trail was still painful to hike.
I
reached the summit of Rocky Head around 11am.
The views are limited here, but I still stopped for a brief snack. From there I headed north on the East Ridge
Trail. At Long Gap I continued ahead on
the Old Trestle Road, which is the grade of the original railroad from Black
Mountain to Mount Mitchell. Easy walking
brought me to Pot Cove Gap, where I had a decision to make. My original plan was to follow the Greybeard
Trail briefly before regaining the old railroad grade farther up the
mountain. That would take me out to the
Old Toll Road, which I would follow to the base of Rocky Knob. From there I’d summit Rocky Knob, and then
follow the ridgeline south to Greybeard.
After Greybeard I’d descend to Walker Knob and camp.
However,
when I arrived at the trailhead I discovered that the Greybeard Mountain Trail
had been re-routed. The segment I’d
planned to hike above Pot Cove Gap is now closed. The trail has been re-routed to follow the
old railroad grade on gentle, sweeping switchbacks. Since I would return that way the next
morning, I decided on an alternate ascent route. Instead I’d take the Old Toll Road from Pot
Cove Gap all the way to the base of Rocky Knob.
I
followed the Old Toll Road on a long contour on the east slopes of
Greybeard. Much of the road was covered
in snow or ice. The remainder was a
mixture of rocks, water, and mud.
Eventually I reached a cliff just off the road that provided a nice view
north and east. It was almost noon, so I
stopped there for lunch.
After
eating I continued on. Along here I
began passing numerous spur roads leading off in a variety of directions. Apparently I wandered off the main road at
one of the junctions, but I didn’t realize it at the time. A bit later I passed a few hunter camps,
consisting of trailers scattered along the road. I saw a guy splitting firewood at one of
them, but otherwise the area was quiet.
He would be the only person I’d see during the entire trip.
A
few minutes later I passed another spur trail leading steeply up the mountain
on my left. I was beginning to get
impatient with the gentle grade of the road, and thought this spur might
provide a more direct route to the road higher up on the mountain. I headed that way, and after a steep climb I
regained the road. Essentially I had cut
a switchback, meaning that I needed to turn left to continue the climb towards
Rocky Knob. However, the road to the
left seemed to be heading gradually downhill.
This was puzzling, but I stuck with my instincts. I turned left, and walked about 10 minutes
down the snow-covered road. I finally
realized that I had erred when I reached the old railroad grade leading back
down towards Montreat. Somehow I had headed back the way I’d come.
I
puzzled over this for a few minutes before I figured out what had
happened. I had missed a turn earlier,
and continued out a spur road. In doing
so, I’d completely missed the switchback heading back to the south. When I finally climbed steeply up to my left,
I’d come out farther up the road, beyond the last of the switchbacks.
At
that point I could’ve continued ahead to Walker Knob. It was only 1:30 though, and the shelter was
only 30 minutes away. I didn’t want to
spend all afternoon lounging around camp.
So I doubled-back the way I’d come.
The dog was baffled at this turn of events, but followed me
dutifully. Eventually I passed the spur
road I’d climbed and continued on.
Sometime later I finally reached the side trail leading up Rocky
Knob. The trail was hidden under a deep
blanket of unbroken snow. I hesitated,
but I hadn’t come this far to stop short of the summit.
I
climbed up into the snow, which was knee-deep in places. The climb was arduous, thanks to the deep,
wet snow. The footing was slippery, and
I relied on trees to help me climb.
Reaching the summit was a huge relief.
I strolled out onto the cliffs, where I was rewarded with spectacular
views of Greybeard, the Craggy Mountains, The Pinnacle, Mount Mitchell, and
more high peaks in the Black Mountains.
I took a break to enjoy the view, but I couldn’t linger long. The wind was brutal there, and it eventually
chased me off the peak.
Originally
I had planned to follow the ridge south to Greybeard. However, I recalled that the trail along the
ridge is quite primitive. The final
ascent up the north side of Greybeard is extremely steep. If the snow was knee-deep on the east side of
Rocky Knob, how much more would there be higher up on the north side of Greybeard? I could see a lot of white from my perch on
Rocky Knob. What if I got most of the
way up Greybeard but couldn’t reach the summit?
I could easily get myself in trouble.
It was already mid-afternoon, and the short days of winter didn’t leave
me with much room for error.
Reluctantly
I turned back. I headed back down to the
Old Toll Road, slipping and sliding in the snow. I regained the road, dumped the snow out of
my boots, and headed back the way I’d come.
Before long I passed the spur road I’d ascended earlier and traversed
the same stretch of road for the third time that day. I finally reached the old railroad grade and
followed it down to a crossing of Flat Creek.
I rock hopped without any trouble before negotiating an icy stretch of
the Greybeard Mountain Trail. I followed
it carefully up to Walker Knob, and reached the shelter around 4:30. I set up camp, fetched water from Flat Creek,
and filtered water. While filtering, I
spilled a few drops on the wooden steps leading up to the shelter. The spilled water turned to ice in only a
couple of minutes. The temperature had
been dropping throughout the afternoon, and the instant ice I’d made was an
indication of a cold night ahead.
I
finished my chores in time to catch sunset.
I walked out to the cliffs of Walker Knob only to discover that building
clouds in the west had obscured the sun.
Despite this, I was still treated to some fine colors as the sun
dropped. The views to the south and west
were as spectacular as always, and I managed a few photos despite the icy
wind. Boone was worn out and not amused
with my attempts at photography. While I
took pictures, he made himself a bed in a Rhododendron thicket.
I
headed back to the shelter after dark. I
made dinner there, heating up the last of the pasta we had dehydrated for last
summer’s trip to Peru. The rest of the
evening was spent trying to keep Boone and myself warm. I’d brought him two blankets, and that
sufficed for awhile. Eventually though
Boone got restless. He was intent on
getting into my sleeping bag, despite the physical improbability of actually
accomplishing this. Somehow he managed
to weasel himself most of the way inside, and he spent a good bit of the night
with his head on top of my feet. Later
he stirred, and I couldn’t coax him back in.
I ultimately unzipped the bag and pulled it over both of us, using the
blankets for extra warmth. I even added
a chemical hand warmer, knowing it would generate some extra heat to help us
through the night.
My
alarm went off at 6:30, but I barely flinched.
It was way too cold to go back out on those cliffs for sunrise. The dog got me up an hour later. My water was frozen, which was not a good
sign. Despite the cold I did walk back
out to the cliff to see what I had missed.
Last night’s clouds were hanging on stubbornly, and sunrise was a
no-show. For once I was actually glad
I’d stayed in bed.
I
returned to the shelter and eventually got my icewater
to boil for breakfast. By the time I
finished my oatmeal it was 8:30. I
decided to make a quick run up to Greybeard before my conference call.
The
climb was a bit of a grunt. I wore my Yaktrax, as much of the trail was icy. Despite the cold, I was sweating by the time
I reached the crest of Seven Sisters Ridge.
From there, a few more minutes of climbing brought me to the summit of
Greybeard. There I was treated to more
fine views of the Black and Craggy Mountains.
Unfortunately I wasn’t able to linger long though. I hurried back down the mountain, and reached
the cliffs of Walker Knob just in time for my call. The call wasn’t exciting, but at least it
came with a great view. Cell phone or not,
sitting on the cliffs of Walker Knob is a great way to spend some time.
I
returned to camp and packed up. I had a
quick lunch and then headed back down the Greybeard Mountain Trail. I took the new section of trail on the way
back. This part of the trail follows the
old railroad grade through several long, sweeping switchbacks. I passed several interesting rock formations,
as well as one bonus viewpoint to the south.
Part of the way down I arrived at a junction
and a sign announcing Greybeard Falls.
Intrigued, I made a short side trip over to Flat Creek to check it out.
Flat
Creek goes on a long run of slides and cascades on its way down from Greybeard
to Montreat.
However, I’d never heard of an official waterfall along its course. Sometime in the last few years a notable
cascade along this run was named Greybeard Falls. I’d passed this cascade many times
previously, on the old trail on the other side of the creek. From that vantage point, well above the
creek, the cascade doesn’t look particularly significant. However, the new spur trail ends at the base
of the falls. From that vantage point,
the cascade appears much more substantial.
It’s an attractive 20’ drop framed by Rhododendron. I took a few photos before resuming the
descent.
A
couple of additional switchbacks led to a rock hop crossing of Flat Creek. Beyond I joined the old trail and descended a
steep, eroded gully. Several more creek
crossings followed. I managed each
without difficulty. Shortly before
reaching the trailhead I arrived at a junction with another new trail. This path, the Harry Bryan Trail, makes a
short loop with the first part of the Greybeard Trail and the Julia Woodward
Trail along Little Slaty Branch. Since it was early and I hadn’t hiked these
trails, I decided to take the long way out.
The
Harry Bryan Trail led through the woods, rolling through frequent climbs and
descents. This was a bit tedious, and I
was relieved when I reached the Julia Woodward Trail. At the junction, the trail heading upstream
had a sign that simply said “falls”. I
wasn’t in a hurry to head home, so I turned upstream along Little Slaty Branch.
A
few minutes later I reached the end of the trail at a small but picturesque
cascade. The creek squeezes between two
boulders here, and the beauty of the spot makes up for the waterfall’s small
stature. It only drops 8’ or so, and probably doesn’t even qualify as a legitimate
waterfall, but I was glad I’d hiked to it anyway. I loitered there for a few minutes before
heading back.
The
hike ended with several minutes of walking on a gravel road past the
construction sites for several new homes.
I reached the car a few minutes later and hit the road. I’ll definitely be back for more hiking in
and around Montreat, as it is one of my favorite
areas. For more information and trail
maps, see the Montreat Wilderness website at:
http://montreat.org/programs/wilderness
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