HAIL, HAIL
Last weekend we enjoyed
something of a reunion hike. Somehow,
the planets were all in proper alignment, allowing Myron, Dorcas, Izaak, Bob,
Laura, and Patrick to join Christy, Saucony, and I for a hike in the Roan Highlands. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to
see everyone there. After all, it
looked like almost everyone else on the planet was there, too.
We timed our hike to
coincide with the Rhododendron bloom, just like everyone else. In that regard, our luck was good. The entire Roan Highlands were covered with
pink flowers. Our timing in regard to
the weather was somewhat more dubious.
We drove through rain from Charlotte to Morganton, but the skies cleared
by the time we reached Marion. As we
approached Carver’s Gap, the sun was out, and the clouds looked harmless. I didn’t say a word about it, but I was
silently hoping that the weather would hold for a few hours.
The parking area at Carver’s
Gap looked like the lot at Best Buy on the morning after Thanksgiving. Cars and people were everywhere. I improvised a parking spot on the side of
the road, and after much wandering around, finally located the rest of the
group. They had arrived 30 minutes
earlier, as they had expected the drive to take longer than it did. They were eager to go, so they started up
the trail to Round Bald ahead of us.
Christy and I gathered our gear quickly, and hurried up the trail after
them, dodging throngs of visitors, many of them decked out in their Sunday
finest. What would happen to all of these
finely dressed people if the weather turned?
We caught up to everyone on
Round Bald, where the views were still good despite the clouds and haze. We left most of the tourists behind, as
Round Bald is as far as most people are willing to hike in high heels. From there, we headed over to Jane Bald,
passing some Flame Azalea on the way.
At a rock outcrop on Jane Bald, we found what were probably the best
displays of Rhododendron of the day.
The bright pink flowers contrasted dramatically with the green grass,
gray rock, and black clouds building in the distance.
We continued up the
Appalachian Trail, but turned off onto the side trail to Grassy Ridge. Grassy Ridge is the highest open bald in the
Roan Highlands, and was our destination for the day. At the summit we found rock outcrops, blooming Rhododendron, and
acres of grassy fields. Despite the
clouds, the views were superb. We
stopped for lunch, fully intending to lounge around for much of the
afternoon. We had only planned a 5-mile
hike, as Christy had competed in a triathlon the day before.
During lunch, Dorcas noted
that her thermometer registered only 58 degrees. This was delightful, after weeks of temperatures in the 90’s in
Charlotte. Little did we know that 58
degrees would seem balmy before the end of the day.
We were just finishing lunch
when we felt the first sprinkles.
Clouds had been building, but they didn’t look particularly
threatening. If anything, I anticipated
a brief, light shower. We put on rain
gear, and prepared to wait it out. The
rain picked up, and then the hail came.
At first, I thought it was snowing!
Soon we were being battered by pellets of ice. Our rain gear offered some protection, but the dogs were eager to
find shelter. It seemed as though a
storm was coming together directly over our mountain. Then the first lightning strike hit on the next ridge over.
We couldn’t have been in a
more dangerous place during a thunderstorm.
We were totally in the open, with at least 2 miles of ridgeline hiking
between us and the nearest trees. We
didn’t have many options, but we could at least get off the summit. We hurried down the trail, as thunder boomed
and lightning flashed all around us.
The rain had turned into a downpour, and the trail quickly became a muddy
river. We splashed down the path in
search of whatever shelter we could find.
Some distance below the
summit, we found a dense stand of Rhododendron, with a hollow area underneath
it. We decided to stop there, except
that my wife, my dog, and Patrick had gotten ahead of everyone else. Bob, Laura, Myron, and Dorcas decided to
wait, while I raced ahead into the storm in search of them.
I yelled for Christy, but
knew it was futile amid the driving rain and rolling thunder. I reached the end of a long stretch of
shrubs, and looked out at an open, grassy ridge that looked like a killing
field in a lightning storm. There was
no sign of Christy. I decided to wait
in the shrubs, rather than risk the exposure.
While I waited, a stream of other hikers raced by. None were wearing rain gear. Most were in jeans and cotton t-shirts,
running shoes, and sandals. One man ran
by, carrying his child who was bawling at the top of his lungs. These people were the poster children for
hypothermia. I snuggled deeper into my
gore tex and waited for the onslaught to end.
The rain eased after a few
minutes, and the rest of the group caught up to me. I brushed ice off of Dorcas’ pack to get to her thermometer. It was now 43 degrees. Who says you can’t get hypothermia in June?
The rain actually stopped,
as the storm moved off to the southeast.
We splashed through the puddles, and actually enjoyed the rest of the
hike out. After the rain, all of the
colors were more vibrant, from the green of the grass, to the orange and pink
of the Flame Azalea and Rhododendron.
Black clouds and flashes of lightning in the distance were gentle
reminders of what we had just endured.
We didn’t find Christy and
Patrick until we reached the cars. They
had decided to keep moving in an effort to stay warm. While they were waiting for us, they had entertained themselves
by watching tourists come down the trail in dress shoes. I don’t suppose they make wingtips with gore
tex liners? As we loaded the cars, we
noted a whole new batch of underdressed tourists heading up the mountain, even
as a new storm brewed to the west. We
didn’t see a single piece of rain gear on any of them.
Our simple 5-mile hike had
turned out to be quite an adventure.
Despite the weather, I had actually enjoyed the day. There’s nothing like a little danger to add
some excitement to an ordinary dayhike.
Still, the next time I hike up on those balds, I could do without the
lightning.
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