From “Give it time”, by Eric Lindell
(http://www.last.fm/music/Eric+Lindell/_/Give+It+Time)
Originally,
Christy and I had planned on car camping the weekend before the Memorial Day Holiday
weekend in an attempt to avoid the crowds.
The weather ruined that though, as rain moved in on Saturday
afternoon. Initially we downgraded our
plans to a Sunday dayhike, but then the rain lingered through the day
Sunday. We weren’t real interested in
making a long drive to walk in the rain, so we put our plans on hold.
Lucky
for me, my job that week didn’t start until Tuesday. On Monday, I took advantage of a dramatic
change in the weather and went hiking.
That day, the forecasted high temperature for Sugar Mountain was in the
upper 40’s! With clear skies also
promised, I was tempted to take a thermos of soup up to Roan Mountain.
A
better idea occurred to me though. There
is a section of the Mountains-To-Sea Trail I haven’t done west of Linville
Gorge. It runs from highway 221 in
Woodlawn (north of Marion) to the Kistler Memorial
Highway on the west rim of the gorge.
(See http://www.ncmst.org/mstsectionsmaps/section11/section11.html). It’s
a long section – about 14 miles one-way, and there aren’t any apparent access
points along the way. I’d thought about
doing this as a point to point hike, but it would require a long day. The car shuttle between trailheads is a
monster, and the hike is challenging, in addition to being long. Doing the entire route would require climbing
over 3000’. To pull it off, I’d need to
go on one of the long days of late spring or early summer. Unfortunately, it’s a low elevation hike, and
I prefer to do those hikes in cooler weather.
This
unusual cold spell offered the perfect opportunity. However, I still wasn’t sold on spending a couple
of hours shuttling cars. The next best
alternative was an out-and-back hike from Woodlawn to Bald Knob, but that would
mean hiking more than 15 miles, again with more than 3000’ of elevation
gain. So, I did some internet research,
and found this alternative on the Carolina Mountain Club’s website:
It
looked like the perfect solution! By
starting off Good Road, I’d cut out about 5 miles, along with two climbs of
around 600’ each.
I
got in touch with Bob on Sunday night.
He was up for a tough hike, despite the fact that he had just finished a
week-long backpacking trip on the Appalachian Trail. I was looking forward to hiking with Bob
again, as we hadn’t done much together over the past few months. I was also eager to get Boone out on the
trail with me again. He’d been in the
house too much lately, and we just can’t seem to get that puppy enough exercise.
Speaking
of Boone, I should probably take a couple of paragraphs to catch up on some of
his latest “adventures”. Well, they are
adventures to Boone. For Christy and me,
they are “embarrassments”.
Boone
can be a handful, and at 77 pounds, he can be hard to handle. We recognized this a few months ago, and
signed him up for a training class at PetsMart. I’m pleased to report that he’s made quite a
bit of progress over the past couple of months.
There have been a few setbacks though.
Early on, we discovered that Boone is terrified by the large tank of
fish in the corner of the store. Any
time we approach it, he puts on the brakes and refuses to budge. Getting him past those fish requires dragging
him. Whenever we do pass by, he
literally slinks past them. In fact, he
almost crawls, his belly is so low to the ground.
A
couple of weeks ago, Christy took him to class solo, as I was out of town. Before going, she took him swimming in Lake
Wylie to tire him out. Early on, we
discovered that his behavior at class was much better when he was
exhausted! That evening, they practiced
leash walking through the store. As they
proceeded down one aisle, Christy had Boone stop and sit. He didn’t leave it at that though. Seeing a comfortable dog bed on the adjacent
shelf, he crawled up onto it and took a nap.
I guess there are limits to how tired we want him to be before class!
Last
Saturday night, Christy and I were tired, but Boone wasn’t. We had gone to a pool party that afternoon,
but had only eaten a light meal that evening.
By the time we got home, we were hungry.
We ordered a pizza, and the delivery guy arrived a bit later. I slipped out the front door to pick it up,
but disaster struck when I came back in.
I opened the door a crack, blocking Boone from running out of the
house. That’s when he jumped up towards
the pizza. I thought we’d succeeded in
training him not to jump, and he caught me off-guard. With one hand on the door, and the other
holding the pizza, I was defenseless. So
I pivoted to shield our dinner from his drooling jaws. What I didn’t realize was that his jump was
merely a feint. Once he had me off
balance, he bolted past me and out the door.
I
put the pizza down and gave chase, afraid that he might jump on the pizza
guy. Boone had bigger plans though. For some reason, the delivery man had left
the door to his car open. Boone headed
straight for it, and by the time I caught up, he was in the back seat
investigating the rest of the pizzas. Fortunately,
they were sealed up in a bag. I managed
to drag him out of the car and into the house before he did any damage.
So
on Monday, I was determined to tire him out.
I met Bob at the Chik-Fil-A
in Morganton, and he rode with me from there.
We drove up through Marion, and followed Google directions to the end of
Good Road. At first we didn’t see the
actual trail. The road ends near a small
farm, but the house there doesn’t appear to be occupied. I parked near the driveway, and Bob and I
walked back up the road, looking for a trail.
This left Boone distraught – apparently he thought we were going hiking
without him. He started barking and
jumping around in the car, but I chose to ignore him. I knew we’d be back in a couple of minutes.
We
found the trail, which is an old gated road, 50 yards or so from where I
parked. Unfortunately, it was posted
with “no trespassing” signs. The trail
passes through private property initially, before entering the national
forest. There wasn’t anyone around
though, and we were just barely in sight of the nearest occupied house. I wasn’t crazy about parking there at the end
of the road, but I thought we might be able to get away with it if we kept a
low profile. That’s when Boone started
honking the horn.
I
like almost everything about my 10-year-old Corolla except the horn. It’s pretty wimpy. Hitting it when someone cuts me off in
traffic doesn’t send a message of “HEY, WATCH IT!” It comes across more like, “excuse me, sir,
excuse me, but please watch out for me over here. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Out in the middle of the peaceful countryside
though, where the loudest noise is the gentle babble of the river, that horn
was rather belligerent. I nearly jumped
out of my boots. I could just picture
people peering out of the windows of the nearest houses. Any thoughts of trespassing were immediately
banished.
So
what was plan B? A glance at the map
indicated that the tracks of the Clinchfield Railroad
run nearby. The Mountains-To-Sea Trail
actually crosses them, just after the bridge over the North Fork of the Catawba
River. If we could find a place to park,
we could walk down the tracks a bit over a mile until we reached the
trail. It wasn’t the ideal solution, but
it would still shave 5 miles off the hike from Woodlawn.
We
drove up the road to a bridge over the river.
We followed another road back down the far side. Just before crossing the tracks, we found a
small parking area next to the river. We
pulled in there and gathered our gear, while I scanned the map one more
time. I didn’t see any tunnels or long
trestles or other hazards between our location and the trail. Still, I was feeling cautious, as the Clinchfield is probably the busiest railroad in the North
Carolina mountains.
Trains come by on a regular basis.
A
distant horn punctuated this thought. We
decided to wait for the train to go by.
Meanwhile, Boone grew more and more restless. Finally the train passed, and we walked up
the road to the tracks. From here, the
tracks are on a high, narrow bed with a steep drop off on either side. If another train came, we’d have to make a
tricky scramble down through the talus into a weedy gully. We were contemplating this possibility when a
truck pulled up.
I
couldn’t believe it. The truck was a
railroad work crew. We chatted briefly
with one of the guys, and he seemed friendly.
Still, walking along railroad tracks isn’t as simple as it used to
be. In this era of heightened security,
railroad employees may not turn a blind eye to trespassers. I was getting nothing but bad vibes about
this whole plan. After a quick
discussion, Bob and I decided to drive back over to Woodlawn and hike it from
there. I wasn’t sure if I was up for a
15+ mile hike, but I was about to find out.
Unfortunately, we had killed half the morning driving around looking for
shortcuts.
Back
in Woodlawn, we parked on a forest road near a gate, just across the highway
from a picnic area. We then headed up
the road, following the MST past a Forest Service Maintenance area and a
helipad. After a bit, we left the road
for a relatively new stretch of trail.
We took this up switchbacks, passing through tunnels of blooming
Mountain Laurel. At the top of the ridge
we joined a logging road, which led down to the road we had started on. We followed this one to its end in a sunny
meadow with views of the Black Mountains behind us. Near here we found more blooming Mountain
Laurel, along with some Sweet Pea. The
Sweet Pea was a surprise, as I hadn’t seen those flowers on a hike in years.
From
there, we followed a rocky trail down a ridge, through more incredible tunnels
of pink and white Mountain Laurel. It
was one of the most outrageous displays of Mountain Laurel I’d seen, and our
timing was perfect. At this low
elevation, most of the shrubs were in full bloom. It was
definitely a highlight of the hike. It’s
funny, if we had succeeded in shortening the hike, we would’ve missed it.
Eventually
we joined an old road and followed it towards the river. This track continues out to Good Road, but we
turned off at the footbridge over the river.
The bridge was installed only a few years ago, making this stretch of trail safer and passable year-round. It wasn’t quite noon, but we stopped there
for a brief lunch break. The toughest
part of the hike was still ahead of us, and after covering 4 miles in less than
2 hours, we were ready for a breather.
After
lunch, we crossed the bridge and then the railroad tracks. We continued up into the woods, and joined
another woods road for a traverse around a ridge. This was easy walking, but we knew it wouldn’t
last forever. Finally we turned off onto
a footpath through a pleasant cove bursting with ferns. From there, the climb began in earnest. A bit later we knew the terrain was finally
getting serious when we arrived at the base of high cliff. A couple of switchbacks later we reached the outcrops
at its top.
We
took a quick break there and enjoyed the views of the Black Mountains across
the valley of the North Fork. From
there, we could see the twin peaks of Dobson Knob above us. We had climbed quite a bit, but we still had
some work to do.
Near
the overlook I spotted a single boot that had obviously been mauled by…something. Whatever it was (A bear? A pack of wild dogs?)
had really worked it over. This whole situation struck me as odd. How did one boot come to be here, miles from
the trailhead? Did somebody really walk
out of here with only one boot on? There
was no sign of another boot, or anything else, for that matter. It was a little creepy, but I guess it could’ve
been worse. For example, the boot could’ve
contained a foot.
We
climbed on from there, passing more fine views from occasional rock
outcrops. We passed a small but scenic
campsite, and even more blooming Mountain Laurel. Eventually the Mountain Laurel gave way to
Rhododendron, which was just starting to put on a show.
The
climb grew tedious, and we passed the time with conversation. Bob entertained me with a recap of a
particularly vivid dream, which segued into an astonishingly vulgar discussion
of Happy Meals. Hot
apple pie, anyone?
We
finally reached the crest of the ridge.
From there, we continued to climb, but at least the eternal switchbacks
were behind us. We strolled along the
narrow ridgecrest, checking
out thru-the-trees views of Lake James and Shortoff
Mountain on the east rim of Linville Gorge.
Before long, we arrived at an outcrop with a great view in the other
direction, towards Little Switzerland and the Black Mountains. We weren’t quite at the summit though, so we
pushed on. We arrived at a junction and
took the side trail, which took us up to the top. There we were treated to the best view of the
day.
From
the top of Bald Knob, we gazed out across rugged terrain towards the familiar
peaks of Linville Gorge. Table Rock,
Hawksbill, Sitting Bear, and Gingercake soared high
above the deep gash of the Linville River.
Beyond Gingercake was the unmistakable form of
Grandfather Mountain. Although the peaks
were familiar, our viewpoint was unique.
I’d never seen them from this angle.
Table Rock in particular appeared to be extremely rugged. It looked more like a missile ready to launch
than a flat table.
We
took a break there to enjoy the view and recharge our batteries. It was mid-afternoon, and we still had to
hike nearly 8 more miles to get back to the car. Along the way, we’d have to endure one more
significant climb.
We
hiked back fast, as our wives were expecting us home in time for dinner. We didn’t fool around much, although we took
a final short break back at the river.
The climb from there was tedious, but the Mountain Laurel provided a distraction
from our fatigue. It was along this
stretch that we encountered the only other person we’d see all day. He was on a mountain bike, and his dog was
chasing after him. Mountain bikes aren’t
allowed on that stretch of trail, so I didn’t feel too bad when Boone got in
his way.
We
got back to the car a bit after 6, which was just over 8 hours after we’d
started. It was a good hike, with lots
of great scenery and wildflowers. Best
of all, I wasn’t nearly as tired as I’d anticipated. Hopefully this means that I’m in better shape
than I thought!
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