FIGHTING GRAVITY
There I was, clinging to a slim finger hold on a nearly vertical slab of rock. How did I get myself in this situation? Well, I suppose it was the usual way. You know, you push it until you're at your comfort level, but then you gain confidence, and it doesn't seem so bad. So you push further, until you're at your comfort level. Then you gain confidence and you continue on. Lather, rinse, repeat. By the time you wish you were attached to a rope, you're too close to the summit to turn back, and it seems easier to keep going than to turn around, anyway. Never mind that you'll have to go back down eventually.
Last Saturday we were looking for somewhere new to hike. Joel had been trying to get us to hike up in Ashe County for quite awhile, so we decided to head in that direction. Joel has done a wonderful job scouting out hikes up there. Ashe County is tricky, since it's mostly private land. Joel has found routes up many of the regions prominent peaks though, including Snake Mountain, Elk Knob, Phoenix Mountain, Three Top, and The Peak. All that, and he's only been run off by one farmer, that I know of. Last weekend, we decided to make another attempt on Three Top Mountain. Three Top is a long east-west ridge featuring, yes, you guessed it, 3 rugged summits. The highest is around 5000', and you'd be hard pressed to find a more rugged mountain in our part of the world. Imagine Grandfather Mountain without the ladders.
Joel, Bob, and Laura made an attempt on the westernmost peak some months ago. It had been quite an adventure. They encountered what appeared to be a permanent campsite near the trailhead. Later they stopped at a rock outcrop for a break. While they rested, they spotted a single person perched on top of the middle peak. He spotted them, and began running down the mountain. He descended the steep rocky ridge, climbed the western summit, and plunged down the ridge towards them. Remember, Three Top is one of the most rugged mountains around. Despite this, he was moving at full speed. He actually ran right past Bob, Laura, and Joel, and Bob's feeble attempt at conversation went unacknowledged. As you can guess, Bob, Laura, and Joel were bewildered. They had reached a point where further progress would require mild rock climbing, so they decided to turn back. They weren't sure what the lone hiker was up to, but they were cautious on the way back down. They skirted well around the campsite they'd seen, and made it back to the car safely.
Bob, Joel, and I met Tom in West Jefferson and headed for the south side of the mountain. The access Joel had found is at the end of a private road off of NC 1125. We drove up a steep gravel road between new home sites. The road is rough, and would be a challenge for an ordinary passenger car. Along the way, we wondered what we'd find. We reached the end of the road, and the property boundary of the state game lands. The land was purchased a few years ago by the Nature Conservancy and sold to the state. We were relieved to find the parking area empty when we arrived.
We followed a faint path north into the woods. This led directly to the former location of the campsite. Nothing remained except for a fire ring and a large pile of brush that had been cleared out of the area. Someone had put a lot of effort into setting up camp. In case you're wondering, it wasn't Eric Rudolph. He had been arrested shortly before Bob, Laura, and Joel's encounter.
Tom returned to the car for a forgotten sandwich, but we eventually began the climb in earnest. We hiked steeply up through the woods, following the faintest of paths from time to time. For the most part though, it was true bushwhacking. We reached a ledge with a fair view south to Bluff Mountain and Mount Jefferson. Then we worked our way through a notch and climbed again.
We reached our first real obstacle at the top of the next outcrop. There was a deeper notch beyond, without an obviously safe route down. The drop off was sheer, but Bob explored it looking for a route. It wasn't terribly high, though I suppose we were above the tops of trees. They were small trees though. To be more specific, they were rhododendrons. Still, it was more than high enough that a fall would be a disaster. I didn't want to think how difficult it would be to evacuate an injured hiker.
Finally we resorted to the rope. I knew I should've been wary when Bob suggested I bring it. I tied it off to a tree, and Bob flirted with stepping back off the ledge. Rope or no, Bob ultimately decided not to chance it. We debated heading back, but Bob was determined. He spotted a faint track leading off the west side of the outcrop. It led down and around the worst of the drop. It still required a couple of tricky steps, but we all made it down eventually.
We regrouped at the bottom of the notch. Our approach was over. Now there was only a few hundred feet of sheer rock between us and the summit.
Bob led the way, and I brought up the rear. At first the climb wasn't too bad. It was steep, exposed rock, but there were plenty of hand and foot holds. Then we reached a short stretch of smooth rock. We worked our way up a crack, using the rough edge of the rock to pull ourselves up.
Soon we fell into a rhythm. We'd struggle up a steep pitch until the terrain would ease up. Then we'd scramble up through brush to the next section of exposed rock. This went smoothly until the final stretch. Here we found another stretch of smooth rock. This time though, there was no crack to cling to. I started crawling up, keeping my body low for maximum friction. The hand and footholds we enjoyed previously were a memory. Here we had to rely on tiny bumps on the rock.
I was part way up when I reached a spot where I couldn't seem to go forward. I looked back, and that was a mistake. I could feel the persistent pull of gravity working on me. You know what they say about gravity; it's not just a good idea, it's the law.
I paused to regain my composure. Then I slid to the right, and found a better spot to climb. A few feet later I was past the difficult part. Then, I was back on my feet, strolling the last few yards to the summit. At the top, we were treated to a magnificent view in every direction. To the northeast was the middle peak of Three Top, and Rogers Ridge, Pond Mountain, Whitetop, Mount Rogers, and Wilburn Ridge were visible beyond. To the west we identified The Peak, Snake Mountain, Old Field, Elk Knob, Potato Hill, and Rich Mountain, with Grandfather Mountain on the horizon. South and east were the Blue Ridge, Bluff Mountain, Mount Jefferson, and Phoenix Mountain.
We enjoyed a leisurely lunch in the sunshine and tried not to think about the descent to come. Joel stopped just below the summit, as he decided not to attempt the final pitch. Bob and I contemplated traversing the ridge over to the middle peak, but we decided to quit while we were ahead.
Finally we had stalled long enough. It was time to head down. I dreaded the descent on the smooth rock. We still had the rope though, and knew we could use it as a safety line if we ran into trouble.
The descent wasn't as bad as I feared. Most of the time I was able to slide down on my butt, using hand and foot holds to control my speed. In the steepest and smoothest places, we turned around and downclimbed. At one point Tom got ahead of us, but began working his way down the wrong cliff. We discovered his error in time to warn him, though he had descended a nearly vertical slope about 20 yards. He climbed back up without incident and got back on the correct route.
We reached the notch, and were relieved to have the worst behind us. Everyone else followed the route we took on the way up, but I decided to explore. I investigated the direct route back up from the notch. It had seemed outrageously dangerous to descend, but going up wasn't bad. It was vertical, but a simple pull up was enough to get me past the worst of it. I reached the outcrop well ahead of everyone else, and it gave me some time to reflect on our day. I've never like heights, and I certainly don't consider myself a rock climber. Today though, I was able to challenge myself, and I didn't back down, even if I should have. From the car to the summit and back was probably not much more than a mile. So we had done a one-mile hike, but it was the toughest one-mile hike I've ever done.
Once off the rocks we descended quickly through the woods to the car. We debated driving over to Mount Jefferson and doing a short hike there. We still had time, and everyone agreed that it might be nice to go for a normal walk. Ultimately though, we decided to skip it and have a beer in the parking lot instead.
Three Top is the sort of mountain that's a thrill to climb, but a relief to be finished with. Christy likes rock climbing though, so I'm sure I'll be back. Next time though, we're doing all 3 summits.
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