Yellow Face & Blackrock Mountain – SB6K - 7/16/12 – 6
Miles
Like the folks aboard the S.S. Minnow, I started out for a
three-hour tour – or in my case, a three-hour hike. After our family’s beach vacation I didn’t
have any work scheduled for a few days, so I made a last-minute decision to further
whittle down my SB6K list and hike to Yellow Face near Waterrock Knob on the
Blue Ridge Parkway. With the SB6K
guidelines of a minimum five-mile hike, I needed to hike beyond Yellow Face and
over to Blackrock Mountain. It’s not
really on a trail map, but Jeff had given me all his information and it seemed
like a simple enough venture, just a long drive there and back. After all, the mountains are where they are.
I made a miscalculation and ended up driving a scenic route,
adding 45 minutes to my morning. I was
daydream- ing about checking out Davidson River Campground on the return drive
and…well, anyway, I was running late. By
the time I got to the BRP I was pushing it, zipping along and getting
anxious. I had a time deadline to get
back home, plus there was a forecast for afternoon thunderstorms and I did not
want to be on top of a mountain for that.
However, skies were slightly overcast, great conditions for photos, and
I said aloud to myself, “This is a waste of a good drive on the Parkway because
you are in a hurry to get to your hike.”
I stopped for one good shot.
At Waterrock Knob Visitor Center I said hello to the rangers and told them my
hike plan. Ranger Mike had done this
hike and gave me some good advice: “When
you see the purple/yellow blazes painted on big rocks, that is not Blackrock
(your destination). Keep going another
half hour to one large rock about 40 feet across.”
On trail about 11:20 a.m., it was very easy to follow, much better
than the unmaintained trail that Jeff and I hiked from Waterrock Knob to Lynn
Lowry and Plott Balsam Mountains last August.
That was a nightmare hike that originally was intended to include Yellow
Face but we opted for dinner instead.
Mountains still go up, and I had a steady half-mile climb to
summit Yellow Face with some fun stuff along the way.
Turk’s cap lilies, as spectactular as rhododendrons
The summit was open with a few trees and full of blackberry
bushes as tall as me
Lots of ups and downs between Yellow Face and Blackrock
Mountain, but I prefer that to long stretches of either one. Yellow/purple blazes (Western Carolina
University colors) were sporadic but helpful in a couple of places. Several times the trail got very skinny,
hugging the steep mountainside.
Note: I am not a goat.
Vegetation was quite high in some spots
Blue beads (fruit) of yellow bead lilies
Fungus on rocks looked like peeling vinyl
I passed the area of
gigantic boulders that Ranger Mike had told me about and kept going. Soon thereafter I met a couple returning from
Blackrock, said there would be some moderate rock scrambling (true, more short
steep sections and lots of fun).
Finally at Blackrock, hot as blue blazes, but I sat on top of it to eat lunch. What a peaceful place. The hump directly above the rock, in the center of the photo, is Yellow Face. I would like very much to go back here in the fall. This is a great novice hike…but it sure is a long drive.
Finally at Blackrock, hot as blue blazes, but I sat on top of it to eat lunch. What a peaceful place. The hump directly above the rock, in the center of the photo, is Yellow Face. I would like very much to go back here in the fall. This is a great novice hike…but it sure is a long drive.
View west from Blackrock Mountain
Emerging cow parsnip bloom - I tried all day to get a good shot of this. Looks a bit like the monster plant in "Little Shop Of Horrors."
Butterfly dangling on Turk's cap lily
On the return lap I slipped on one steep section, landed flat out
on my back, acquired a few more battle scars.
I also met a young man and woman wearing forest service clothing, orange
vests. The woman had what looked like a
small folded laptop strapped to her chest, said they were doing some “geologic
mapping.”
Who knew there would be so many people on this unmaintained
trail on a Monday afternoon? Very close
to the trailhead, I met a group of six hikers who said they were going to “Bear
Rock.” I detected accents, not English
as their first language. I raised a
mental eyebrow that it was nearly 2:30 p.m. and they were beginning a six-mile
hike with thunderstorms in the forecast, but I kept my mouth shut. I did ask if they had water and they said
yes, but I sure didn’t see any, and no backpacks. I think I would be a terrible forest ranger
because I would worry about everybody too much.
My hike took about 3
hours, not bad. Back at Waterrock Knob Visitor
Center, I checked in with the rangers, used the restroom, then got into my car
to head back home. Thus began the REAL
adventures of the day.
My car key would not turn in the ignition. Wiggling, jiggling, twisting the steering
wheel, nothing worked. There I was ,
high up on the Blue Ridge Parkway, 150 miles from home on a Monday
afternoon. The good news was that I
wasn’t alone on some dirt back road.
There were people around and maybe I could get some help.
Following are my notes just as I wrote them when I (finally)
got home. Names have been changed to
protect…well, you know…
I called my husband Jim, busy at work, he couldn’t problem-solve
over the phone. I asked Ranger Mike to
look at it: a head-scratcher for him,
too, but at least he confirmed it wasn’t just my imagination or weak arms. Cell phone service was sketchy, better on
one side of the parking lot than the other.
I called AAA, explained my situation, got cut off. After several attempts, I hoped a tow truck
was on the way. The rangers gave me
their cell phone number as a callback in case mine didn’t work (battery getting
low, of course). A traveler stopping at the
visitor center (Bill) overheard my conversations with AAA, said he was a
mechanic and would be happy to look at my problem. He worked on it for over 30 minutes and
concluded that the ignition cylinder needed to be replaced.
I sat around on the curb like a vagrant waiting for the tow
truck to arrive. I couldn’t wait in the
car because (1) it was too hot and I couldn’t put the windows down and (2) I
was afraid I wouldn’t get cell reception at my car. Talked off and on with Mike and the other
ranger about different hikes in the area.
Watched people come and go.
A late afternoon storm did come up, hard rain for a little bit, then
hail, then it passed on and we watched it travel eastward – fascinating, really. Three motorcycle dudes stopped at the VC to
sit out the storm.
Rangers offered to wait around with me, but I said I’d be
fine. They closed up shop at 5 o’clock
and left.
Three women with six kids pulled up before the storm, kids
ran around the parking area, women were fascinated by the storm and aftermath,
trying to take photos of lightning. They
were there probably an hour. I finally
struck up a conversation. They were from
Biloxi, MS where Hurricane Katrina “actually happened.” One sis lives in Clyde, NC now. They come up several times a year to visit
her and hang out at Maggie Valley. One
sis said she has lost her New Orleans area accent but I silently disagreed.
Tow truck arrived at 5:30 p.m., Dave in charge. I rode with him back to Fletcher, NC (near
Asheville) to the only Honda dealer – Jim had called around for the best
possible place to get it fixed. It was a
long ride at 25 mph going down the mountain.
Dave liked me right away since I was nice to him about the long wait
(2.5 hours) because I knew that it was a rural area and his is the only AAA
towing service in the county. Anyway, in
that hour ride I learned many things:
Dave didn’t have on his seatbelt ,and when I chastised him
about it he said he doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs, so this is the one rule
he doesn’t follow, because a good friend a long time ago had a wreck and went
into a pond and because of his seatbelt being fastened he drowned.
Dave got a text from his wife and explained: his cousin’s granddaughter had been molested
by a family friend, and they charged the man, and the man had just that minute
killed himself with a shotgun. True
story, that’s about how succinctly he told it to me.
Many other topics covered with Dave – can’t get them all
down. An extremely nice, down home, mountain
resident, happy with his work and loves his family. I was thankful for my own rural upbringing to
help me appreciate his friendly manner.
At the Honda dealer, the guy there (Bob) showed Dave where
to unload my car, noticed my Virginia Tech sticker and showed me his VT
watch. He’s a ’74 graduate, played
basketball for Tech. We compared notes
and it seems he and I were both at the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans in 2001 – did
we see each other on Bourbon Street?
Then Dave dropped me at the Waffle House to wait for Jim to
pick me up, because the dealership closes at 8 o’clock and Jim wouldn’t get
there until 9 o’clock (it was 7:30). I
was the only customer. They were
training a new waitress. I told them I
was waiting for a ride and we got into all kinds of conversations. The young waitress had quit smoking because
she had bronchitis and then became pregnant, a good incentive. Her co-workers congratulated her. I ordered an omelet and it was the best thing
ever, very light and fluffy. The young
male cook was very sweet, told me the secret is to drop it in very hot grease
and cook it very quickly, no browning. I
told him I was eating so slowly because I didn’t want it to end.
The young waitress grew up around here and talked about some
hiking she had done (when she was younger?) and some camping spots. She really seemed to appreciate that she
lives in an area with many treasures.
One camping spot near Mills River she no longer recommends because she
heard they do witchcraft there.
Around 8:45 p.m. the culture of the Waffle House changed,
some more customers came in, the 9 o’clock shift people arrived, someone turned
on the radio and it became kind of hectic.
Jim called to say he was close and to order him some food to go. I gave the order to the new trainee and she
got to place her first order in code without writing it down. While it was being prepared she told me about
her 23-year-old son who is estranged, she doesn’t know where he is, and she is
seeing a counselor. I told her I thought
it would turn out all right eventually if she always lets him know that she
loves him.
Got home about 11:00 p.m.
Geez, a six-mile hike.
There is no such
thing in anyone's life as an unimportant day. ~Alexander Woollcott
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