This hiking weekend planned with members of the Carolina Berg Wanderers was shaky all week as we watched Hurricane Hannah forecasts, but by Thursday it looked like we were in the clear. Carolyn and Tarah and I hit the road at the ridiculously early hour of 7:00 AM to rendezvous with Jeff coming up from South Carolina for a hike near Bryson City. After a few where-are-you-now phone calls and a tour of Ela (the town, not the person) and its hardware store, we got directions for the Cooper Creek trailhead. Our little book said to look for an abandoned trout farm, but I am happy to report that the trout farm is up and running, as they did not want me to take up all their parking spaces…so we headed up the road in my good ole Honda Pilot. “Road” is a very generous term for the ground that we covered at .25 miles per hour so as not to bust a hole in my radiator from the boulders. Note to followers: pay the trout farm guy a few bucks and leave your car there.
So we began this crazy counterclockwise loop hike that changes trails a billion
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We had a beautiful day and some speedy hikers, and after just a half mile on the Cooper Creek trail we turned right onto Deeplow Gap Trail. We climbed up to the intersection with Mingus Creek Trail, where I had been just a week-and-a-half ago on my solo hike. I thought about that rainy day when I sang to keep my nerves in check. Interesting to arrive at the same spot in the woods from a different direction. From here we turned left onto Mingus Creek Trail and began a steep climb. Now I was the tail end of the group and stayed far enough behind that they could not hear me gasping for air. On these steep uphills I am always asking myself, “Now, tell me again WHY we think this is so much fun?” The uphill mercifully ended shortly before the intersection with Newton Bald Trail where we paused for water and a little lunch.
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Somewhere soon after the falls I noticed that my right ankle was sore and found a very large bruise and swelling just above the bone on the outside of my ankle. This felt all too similar to the ankle injury I had on my first outing at Hazel Creek back in April. Sure enough, each step became more painful, not just in an ouch-that-hurts kind of way, but in a knee-buckling-I-don’t-think-I-can-walk kind of way. The last half mile backtracking on Cooper Creek Trail was rather miserable as I contemplated how I was going to hike for the next two days. I knew it wasn’t going to be with those boots on.
Back to my car, right where I left it, and we jostled over the “road” and waved to the trout farm, then headed back to Ela to retrieve Jeff’s car and made our way to Deep Creek Campgro
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Guess that’s what I’ll do.
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