Big Yellow Mountain

Big Yellow Mountain Hike – 6/21/19 – 11 Miles

Big Yellow Mountain is a Southern Appalachian high elevation grassy bald (5,540 feet), part of the Roan Highlands on the NC/TN border. Its 395 acres is jointly managed by the Nature Conservancy and the Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy. The Appalachian Trail passes close by it between Carvers Gap and Little Hump Mountain, but there is no signage. I’ve come close a few times but hadn't taken the time to check it out. I’ll never make that mistake again. Yellow Mountain is a worthy destination, not a side trip.

I met up with Cathy and her energetic pup, Ellie, and then we connected with her friend Ann in Newland, NC. They had a vague idea of getting on the AT near Overmountain Shelter and hiking an out-and-back to Yellow Mountain. I’d used this lesser-known access point to the shelter once before with my buddy Mike, but I didn’t recall specific driving instructions and Google maps certainly was no help. We stopped in a convenience store; the first old fellow at the counter gave me succinct directions and we got there easily. Burned into my memory now!

From our parked car, we walked a quarter mile or so to the intersection of the AT and the side trail to Overmountain Shelter, an iconic shelter on the AT that, in my opinion, requires a visit whenever you’re in the neighborhood.  [As of this writing on 4/6/20, Overmountain Shelter is closed indefinitely as an unsafe structure, don’t know if/when repairs will be made. You can still camp there, but don’t be tempted to go inside.]

Headed northbound on the AT, a look back over my shoulder at the teeny tiny red dot Overmountain Shelter (click on photo to enlarge)

Dodder, also called love vine for the way it wraps itself around other plants

A perfectly beautiful day, following Ellie at a brisk pace, chatting and breathing that mountain air – perhaps that’s why we missed the (unmarked) turnoff to Big Yellow Mountain right about here.

Still blissfully unaware that we are walking away from Big Yellow – but we’re having a grand hike!

We found ourselves at the foot of Big Hump Mountain before we would admit that we'd gone too far.  It was too windy to sit down for lunch, so we backtracked past Bradley Gap and ate on a rock in full view of Big Hump with Grandfather Mountain on the horizon.

Big Hump Mountain

Grandfather Mountain 

Ellie

We worked our way back through the gnarly forest and rocky open peak of Little Hump Mountain (Really? Did we really go through all of this without a clue?)  Near the bottom of Little Hump, the AT turned right but a faint track in the grass kept straight. No signpost, and it was clear why we had missed it – but I won’t miss it again.

Ten minutes later, the faint track turned left onto another faint track and we were climbing Yellow Mountain, altogether about a mile to a gate that sort of welcomed us with a reminder to behave if we want to have nice things.

Even among the Roan Highlands, the Yellow Mountain bald is a singularly spectacular place. The view is 360 degrees and the meadow grass really is a saturated yellow-green. Cathy, Ann, Ellie and I were the sole visitors, the grass rolling in the gusty winds and mountain peaks rising all around. Amazing grace!

Cathy and me

We retraced our steps southbound on the AT to the junction with the Overmountain Shelter side trail, and as a little treat to end our day, we took the little-used Overmountain Victory Trail for the last half-mile back to the car.  At the intersection the OVT gets a little overgrown by late summer, but after a turn into the deep trees it becomes a rocky old road bed, gently dropping down to the gravel road. [Information on the Overmountain Victory Trail is here. It follows the route of the Overmountain Victory Men during the Revolutionary War. Most of the trail is a driving route but there are a few short sections of hiking trail.]

I’m so glad to have finally seen Yellow Mountain and to know that, thanks to the Conservancy, it will be the same any time I visit it. Our tentative start and lengthy meanderings were worth the payoff, a lesson for me to keep in mind, to sometimes let things just unfold. (Okay, who am I kidding? I’ll probably never love the uncertainty of “let’s see if we can find it,” but I will have this memory to lean on as one that turned out well. But next time I’m bringing a map.)

[Ann has had the privilege of hiking up Yellow Mountain via private owner access on an excursion hosted by the Nature Conservancy. The excursion was led by Jay Leutze, author of Stand Up That Mountain, which chronicles the successful fight to protect the Yellow Mountain and Appalachian Trail viewshed against a strip mining coal company. The book should be required reading for anyone who hikes the AT, to gain appreciation for those who protect the mountains and the trail.]

                                                          

“When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows and look out upon the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive.”  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Max Patch on National Trails Day

Max Patch on National Trails Day - 6/1/19

The first Saturday in June celebrates local, state and federal trails, recognizing the benefits and enjoyment of nature, promoting awareness of recreational trail services, and offering opportunities to give back as good stewards of our public lands.  This day of recognition has taken on significance in a myriad of way: hiking clubs host workdays, environmental organizations offer education workshops, state parks lead hikes, and hikers take to the trails. The PR machine works for months to get the word out to take a day to enjoy, give back and/or pay it forward to protect and honor the lands we love.

Carolina Mountain Club maintains 92.6 miles of the Appalachian Trail, including the area lovingly known as Max Patch. In fact, Max Patch gets “loved to death” and is in frequent need of trail maintenance and rehab. That’s the paradox of easy accessibility to a special place: you want people to come, but when they do, they wear it out. CMC sponsors a National Trails Day workday and I joined nearly 100 people in the 2019 efforts at Max Patch. How do you organize 100 people to work on a trail? With a lot of planning.

Getting our marching orders; tools provided, but some folks brought their own

Sections had been prepped for the day with gravel, fencing and other material put in place. Some groups worked on the signage area near the parking area, some filled in eroded tread, some worked on patches of invasive plants. I followed a crew chief in charge of rehabbing a short section of trail in the trees near the base of Max Patch. First we went through a lengthy getting-to-know-each-other exercise and detailed safety rules and precautions. We were tasked with widening our section of trail, digging out all rocks and roots and sloping the trail just right for drainage. Working in pairs, we spread up and down the trail.

If you’ve done trail work yourself, you know that you can’t keep it up for long, changing your work angle frequently or your back will tell you all about it later on.  Our trail bosses were incredibly picky about the precise grade! We took a short break to eat lunch on the trail as one woman identified every single birdsong (hard to hear the birdsong over all the commentary…)

Best part of the day: walking up and over Max Patch bald to join the rest of the crews. The sky, the sun, the clouds, the intensity of green and blue and white, were stunning.

 “When there is mist on the mountains, it is beautiful, and when there is no mist, it is also beautiful.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

AT in NC: Allen Gap to Hot Springs - Final Miles

Appalachian Trail in NC – Allen Gap to Hot Springs – 4/13/18 – 14.7 miles

 

Jim and I dusted off our hiking/biking formula to help me complete the AT in North Carolina.  He mapped out a 50-mile bike route to challenge himself while I knocked out 14.7 miles on the trail.  The hard part was leaving home at 6:00 a.m. Hot Springs, here we come!

I started southbound from Allen Gap at 9:30 a.m., 14.7 miles and 3,000 feet of elevation gain on the menu, hoping I could go faster than my usual 2 mph pace. Today’s miles would be up and down roller coaster style.

Almost immediately I hit the steady flow of northbound thru-hikers, meeting them one at a time. Like my overnight earlier in the week, I was the only hiker going south, and the only dayhiker until I got past Tanyard Gap.  Everyone remarked on the temperature warm-up, got what we wished for, but is it too hot now? Everyone’s got an internal thermometer and a personal optimum zone.

Forty-eight degrees is chilly standing still but means nothing when climbing a mountain; within 30 minutes I was warmed up, took off my fleece jacket, my long-sleeved shirt, and zipped off the legs of my hiking pants (yes, I am one of the dinosaurs that still wears cargo-type hiking pants, not leggings). My daypack was now full of clothing. That’s when I realized I’d forgotten the container for collecting water to filter with my new mini Sawyer. I had only 1.5 liters of water, so I’d have to be mindful of stretching it out.

Boy Scouts have been here

Nobody was hanging around at Spring Mountain Shelter, a tiny place that sleeps only 5 people, built in 1938 by the Civilian Conservation Corps.  Lots of tent space, though, and a water source down the hill, and bear cables to hang your pack (a big plus in my book). Half a mile past there I met an older man, heavy-laden, who asked me how far to the shelter because he planned to stop there overnight. It was only about noon, but he was done for the day.

 

Signs of spring green on the ground and small spring flowers when I looked hard enough, yellow and purple violets and pure white bloodroots, and at lower elevations I saw bluets, toothwort and crested dwarf iris in profusion.

Shagbark hickory (I think)

No green on the trees yet, long distance views even in wooded areas as the trail roamed up and down, in and out of hardwood coves. Perfect day.

At Hurricane Gap, the trail crosses gravel USFS roads, winds through the woods for a short spell, then crosses the same gravel roads. Those white blazes are pretty important there. In the in-between I stopped for lunch - cheese cubes, pepperoni, an apple – feeling very strong today (it won’t last).

The climb from Hurricane Gap up to the Rich Mountain lookout tower side trail was quite steep, not switchbacked one bit. At the signpost I stopped to read what people had written – tower closed, tower open, stairs missing, don’t skip it, etc.  Two young guys from West Virginia came up, full of enthusiasm and immortality, having a great hike, and they decided to go for it. I continued on my way (just as I skipped the side hike to Camp Creek Bald on Wednesday, only 2 days ago!) but I had regrets later. It might have been fun to go to the tower with the thru-hikers…[Note: Rich Mountain tower has been restored by the Forest Fire Lookout Association and reopened in Nov. 2018]

From there the trail begins its 2,200 descent to the French Broad River, one big drop to Tanyard Gap, then another big drop after Pump Gap. My speed was holding at its default 2 mph; maybe now I would accelerate (I didn’t).  For one thing, more thru-hikers stopped for a chat (they were going uphill).

I met a couple from Florida, 50’s, the woman was a bit heavy.  They had started in February but had to get off for a short period of time because of the cold. I always ask how the Smokies were, and for them it was crowded and cold and they complained about the mixture of thrus, section hikers and dayhikers. True, section hikers tend not to realize they are disrupting the thru-hiker flow, often arriving at shelters late when thru-hikers are settling down, celebrating their successful day without regard for thrus who just want to sleep (hiker midnight is 9:00 p.m.).  Tensions of sharing the AT.

At Tanyard Gap the AT crosses over US Highway 25/70. Forest roads and backwoods blacktops are reminders that the world exists out there. Encountering a highway is rare (thank you to trail routers and builders) but it sure can disrupt the vibe.  From here it was a very long 5.8 miles to my end point in Hot Springs. I felt civilization just an arm’s length away and the necessity to pay closer attention to white blazes.  My biggest ups of the day were done but feeling tired (rationing water?) slowed me down and I was weary of the smaller ups and downs that now felt big.

 

Right after crossing the bridge I met a young woman who noticed my VT shirt. She was a Hollins College grad herself, but her mom was a VT alum and her sister was currently a student.  She was doing a two-month section hike, date driven rather than mileage driven, and she hoped to make it to Grayson Highlands, VA by May 11 (Mother’s Day) to meet her mom. I’ll bet that was a joyful reunion!

 

The open meadows along Mill Ridge were a pleasant surprise, but not so much the next couple I encountered going north (dayhikers this time). They stopped to ask me how far it was back to Tanyard Gap. I replied that I wasn’t sure, started to pull out my map, and the man said, “We carry a map but we are too lazy to look at it.” Hmmm.  I blinked. “You should probably use your map.” Says he, “We track everything on our GPS.” I just turned around and walked away without comment. Some folks don’t seem to realize how dumb they sound.

Fire pinks

At last, the reward for this section of the trail, Lover’s Leap and high cliffs overlooking the French Broad River and the town of Hot Springs. It’s only a 1,000-foot descent from here! Cell service once again, I texted Jim that I had run out of water and wanted him to bring a cold Orange Crush to the finish line (he did).

 

The final descent into town was not carefree, but rather slow going over boulders and slippery scree. I could see the French Broad and hear US 25/70 - how could I possibly still have two miles to go?  I met yet another old fellow, shirtless, pot belly, who planted himself in the center of the trail to talk. He detailed for me every one of his nights in the Smokies (no more asking that question), temperature, amount of snow, what he ate. He retired in March 2018 after many years at his job, now pursuing his AT dream. I tamped down my impatience to be on my way out of respect for his enthusiasm in telling his story. I sincerely hope he completed his journey.

Just 1 in 4 starters complete an AT thru-hike. Of the hundred or so I passed during the last two weeks, I wonder who made it?

At least half of the last mile down from the cliffs is actually walking away from town on one long switchback before the trail takes a final u-turn and drops down to river level. It goes past a handful of campsites (little patches among the rocks just large enough for individual tents) that were nearly all occupied, backpackers enjoying one night beside the river before they begin climbing again.  Two guys were sprawled out with their resupply boxes retrieved from the post office; one offered me Easter chocolate candy kisses and beamed an enormous smile when I accepted.

  

Final steps up to the road, cross the bridge over the French Broad into Hot Springs – a little underwhelming ending because Jim was on the phone helping our son solve a problem (as he handed me my Orange Crush).  Ah, real life. It was a hard finish but a triumph nonetheless. I have walked the Appalachian Trail through North Carolina!

 

I got cleaned up at the Hot Springs branch library on Main Street (which, BTW, is awesome, as are all Madison County library branches. They were named “Best Small Library in America 2018!”) 

The town was chock full of thru-hikers celebrating a day in town, so Jim and I drove on over to Marshall in search of dinner.  We heard that Sweet Monkey Bakery made good pizza: confirmed, the best pizza I think I have ever had, crust made to order, a flavored olive oil, basil, tomato and four local cheeses, including incredibly rich and creamy goat cheese. As hungry as we were, this was just too good to eat all in one sitting.

Highlight of the day: A cowboy, complete with spurs, hat, ponytail, came in to pick up pizzas to deliver to the local brewery. As he waited for his order, I surreptitiously snapped a photo over Jim’s shoulder.  Great stories are written from images like this. 

  

Last stop at Mad Cob Brewery, and I was so stuffed with pizza and Orange Crush and multiple jars of sweet tea, I had no room for anything else. (The cowboy came in to deliver pizzas!) A guitarist was strumming on the streetside front porch. Out back was a balcony overlooking the French Broad River and the train tracks run alongside the riverbank between the water and the building. In conversation with a local, we learned that there was bluegrass music a couple of miles down the road. 

  

Low point of the day: We had to get on home and couldn’t stay overnight in Marshall. Next time.

“Walking revitalizes me. After one day on the trail I become different from the way I am at home. I am in touch with the seasons, the weather, the varied hours of each day. I see more keenly. I am aware of the details” ~Marlyn Doan