Sunday, December 29, 2019

Benton MacKaye Trail In the Smokies: Big Creek to Laurel Gap Shelter


Benton MacKaye Trail: Smokies Backpack Day 1 - 3/16/19 – 12 Miles

Looking at my gear scattered around the bedroom floor, the thought crossed my mind that I was in over my head. What.Have.I.Done.

I met Nancy several years ago through this blog. At that time I knew her as a homeschooler, outdoors lover and blogger, and we would comment on each other’s writings from time to time. Since then I’ve learned she is a very accomplished hiker, backpacker, outdoor-advice-giver, search-and-rescue volunteer, veterinarian, baker, spouse and parent – all in the same 24 hours that the rest of us get each day.  I had never met Nancy in person, though, until she extended an invitation to folks in GSHAG (Great Smokies Hiking Adventure Group, of which I am a lurking member) for an adventure, backpacking the Smokies section of the Benton MacKaye Trail from Big Creek to Fontana Dam. I was excited, to say the least, for the opportunity to meet Nancy, enjoy a few days in my beloved Smokies, and hang with SAR experts so I stood a good chance of emerging safely.

 
Many folks expressed interest but ultimately it boiled down to four people in our group.  There were voluminous detailed emails flying around discussing weather, apps, maps, gear, logistics of cars and shuttling. I haven’t hauled a backpack since June of last year and these people hike every weekend. A couple of days before leaving home my anxiety level was physical, a racing heartbeat and a nervous stomach.

I drove to Cherokee, NC on Friday to meet Lane and Chris at Smokemont Campground in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, where Chris and I left cars for our arrival on Day 3 (Monday). At that point I’d head home to Charlotte. Nancy and the guys would pick up their resupply from Chris’s car, change out some gear, indulge in a meal and adult beverages in town, spend the night at the campground, then backpack several more days on the BMT to reach Fontana Dam. They were all in and I was a weekend warrior.

I had to make all my pack decisions before leaving my car at Smokemont. We were spending Friday night at Nancy’s, shuttling early Saturday morning. Do I have enough food? Most important, do I have enough clothes to be warm? Is it all too heavy? Pressure!

My nervousness receded once I met Lane and Chris.  Like me, they are both Smokies 900 Milers and have spent many nights in the woods. Chris had recently completed an AT thru-hike and was preparing for a PCT thru-hike. Lane teaches backpacking and other outdoor skills, leads many hikes for GSHAG, and also is an SAR volunteer. He mentioned starting the SB6K challenge sometime and I mentioned that we would pass right by one tomorrow (Big Cataloochee) if he wanted to tag it. Lots of trail chatter as we drove to Nancy’s home.

What a delight to meet Nancy and her husband (he’s a cyclist, what a surprise!) More trail and gear talk, more weather speculation, until I went to my room to rearrange my pack yet again. Sleep evaded me, as I knew it would, the trail jitters ballooning to fill my head.

Saturday Morning

Nancy’s husband drove us to Big Creek, one of my favorite areas of the Smokies in eastern Tennessee. Nancy and I shared a laugh when we saw that we wore the same Dirty Girl gaiters and teal-colored fleece jackets. We stepped onto the bridge spanning thundering Big Creek…and we’re off.

Baxter Creek Trail, as we all well knew, is 6.2 miles long and 4,000 feet elevation gain, all up, no relief, a reputation as the longest steep grade in the Smokies. I’ve hiked down it twice as the last part of a long loop and can tell you it’s a knee-breaker. Coffee and adrenaline swept over me, though, and the grade didn’t feel as drastic as I anticipated – for about ten minutes. Then my three new friends quickly moved ahead and I was alone with my own self as reality settled in for the long haul.

 
Lane waited for me to catch up at about halfway, said I wasn’t too far, and Chris and Nancy waited a little further up.  We regrouped and started again, and I was comfortable bringing up the rear. The second three miles was slower, as I was determined not to get too winded.

The temperature dropped noticeably as the zone changed to alpine spruce-fir forest, frost particles on the ground, hoarfrost along the trail edges. I realized my phone battery was draining rapidly – I hadn’t anticipated the cold when I decided not to carry a battery charger.  I powered it off for much of the trip, turning it back on judiciously for photos. Funny, I didn’t much miss it and soon got used to just experiencing the hike rather than documenting all of it.

The final half-mile to Mount Sterling fire tower was the steepest, especially above the side trail to the water source designated for the campsite there (who would ever go get water there?)


We stopped at the campfire ring to eat but it was very chilly.  Nancy and Chris and I climbed to the top of the tower – who knows when we’ll be there again on a blue-sky day?  The view was magnificently clear. We could see the Cataloochee area and Hemphill Bald, and views far to the north and south. Do you see Mount LeConte? Grandfather Mountain? Grayson Highlands, VA?

Looking down at the campfire ring

Leaving the fire tower, we walked half a mile on Mount Sterling Trail to its junction with Mount Sterling Ridge Trail. Turning right, the ridge trail slides about a mile-and-a-half down to Pretty Hollow Gap, where Pretty Hollow Gap Trail rises up from Cataloochee to meet Swallow Fork Gap rising up from Big Creek. In another month this little meadow gap would be teeming with wildflowers.

From that junction, the ridge trail is about four miles of flat, easy walking. I was still in last place, no longer breathless from exertion, now filled with joy on a cold day rambling on a mountain ridge.  The trail gently curves around the slopes of Big Butt and Big Cataloochee Mountains. Cold and damp: icicles, mushy wet spots, some frozen, steady water flow from the high side of the trail where it’s likely just a seep in the summertime. Curious observation: lots of green spruce “droppings” on the trail, not cones, but bright green tips of branches.

 
Lane and Chris and Nancy had decided to tag the summit of Big Cataloochee Mountain as part of the SB6K since they were in the neighborhood. At the next junction they turned left onto Balsam Mountain Trail and hiked a quarter-mile to Laurel Gap Shelter, our home for the night, to drop their packs to go off-trail. There is no established trail up Big Cataloochee but the easiest route (not to be confused with “easy”) starts from Mount Sterling Ridge Trail.  On the tail end of winter, this was an ideal time to bushwhack to the summit (6,155 feet).

They were ahead of me, of course, and I had no desire to revisit the summit of Big Cat (read about my prior hike to Big Cat here). When I arrived at the shelter, they were just getting ready to leave. Two other hikers had arrived, so my buddies had spread out their gear to claim space in case others showed up (no one else did). I made myself at home.

 
The two backpackers – a young woman from Tennessee and a young man from Florida - were not together and were not interested in deep conversation.  I got water from the source way down the hill (cold cold cold) and sat in a little patch of sunshine waiting for my friends to return.  Took longer than I expected – they hiked 2.5 miles, not as straightforward as one might expect – but they were happy. Another hiking challenge list started!

Laurel Gap Shelter sits at 5,500 feet and did I mention it was cold cold cold? Cooking and eating and worrying about the dropping temperature, not much leisurely end-of-day chatter. Park trail maintainers had put up the customary heavy duty winter tarp across the shelter opening, which helps to keep the wind out and a couple of degrees more heat in, especially with a fire in the fireplace – but none among us was eager to build and maintain a fire.  All six hardy souls were cocooning inside sleeping bags before 8:00 p.m.

Lane said he doesn’t like winter camping and had been preparing for weeks for this trip. He makes most of his own gear, sewed his own booties and sleeping bag, knows all the products and hacks. He loaned me toe warmers that worked so well I was afraid they might burn my skin if I fell asleep with them in my socks. After an hour, I returned them and Lane put them into a sealed plastic bag; they will be good for more use. Just one of the things I learned from these amazing folks!

15-degree sleeping bag
sleeping pad
silk liner for sleeping bag
short-sleeved tee shirt
long underwear top and bottoms
thick stretch ski pants
Smartwool medium weight half-zip shirt
heavy weight fleece jacket (thank goodness I chose to bring it despite the bulk!)
purple Marmot puffy coat
head band and fleece Liberty hat
neck gaiter
thick wool gloves

The only clothing I didn’t sleep in were my hiking pants, rain pants and rain jacket. I remember waking from a dream at one point, so I must have slept, but I was chilled all night long. Dreading night #2 in a campsite, although sleeping in a tent is warmer – I hope.


“Cold! If the thermometer had been an inch longer we'd have frozen to death.” ~Mark Twain

“What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?”  ~John Steinbeck





Saturday, November 30, 2019

Morrow Mountain State Park Ramble


Morrow Mountain State Park – 3/9/19 – 7.2 Miles

Recent relentless rains canceled hike plans left and right; I was getting very antsy. On an early March Saturday every square mile west of Charlotte was forecast for rain AGAIN (sorry, am I yelling?) In the land of the flat east of Charlotte, the morning will be merely cloudy. Morrow Mountain State Park?  Doesn’t generate much enthusiasm from my hiking gene. A drab day too early for spring flowers, cloudy means no views.

 
But I needed to get in some training/conditioning in preparation for a Smokies backpacking trip next weekend (my confidence was lacking). I could also practice using the GAIA GPS navigation app. Jim and I downloaded a topo map of the park and sketched out a route of 7 miles with a little bit of elevation gain. The map was a bit old but I could follow along with the most recent paper map. Jim gave me a brief tutorial so I could at least turn it on and locate myself. I won’t learn if I don’t practice and make mistakes.

I got up Saturday morning and just made myself do it – the summit of Morrow Mountain or bust!  At least it’s close to home.

My hike began at 8:45 a.m., chilly and damp but tolerable. The parking lot was surprisingly crowded and I learned later about a search and rescue training session being conducted at the backcountry camping site. I’m impressed at the versatility and creative use of the park.

A well-worn trail

Like many state and county parks, trails run concurrently and crisscross frequently – it’s easier to get lost here than on the Appalachian Trail despite the abundance of blazes and signs attempting to disentangle the web (I proved this near the summit). There is even one short stretch of trail where Morrow Mountain Trail, Backpack Trail and Sugarloaf Mountain Trail all share the same real estate. My route ran from the Visitor Center parking lot to the top of Morrow Mountain. I can’t name some of the connector trails, but I basically started on the Backpack Trail (aka Morrow Mountain Trail)…

(confusing sign, Sugarloaf Mountain Trail also goes to the right)

…which was a surprisingly steep climb straight up, then a sudden sharp left turn, leveling out and circling the mountain.  

The top is very broad and I wasn’t sure where the true summit is. I caught glimpses down to the rivers and lakes (Pee Dee River? Lake Tillery? Mountain Creek? Which is which?).  

Are we at the top yet?

There is evidence of fires on this trail, whether from an event in 2010 or from more recent prescribed burns, lots of charred wood and burned stumps. Holly trees are flourishing, though, and young pines are on the rise.

 
Descending on the opposite side of Sugarloaf Mountain, the trail heads towards the parking area for unloading horses. All the bridle trails were closed until further notice because of damage from Hurricane Florence in the fall of 2018 and recent excessive rains. I opted for the shortcut road walk and left turn back into the woods on Sugarloaf Mountain Trail again, looking for Morrow Mountain Trail. [All trails are open as of this posting on 11/30/19. Always check park websites right before your visit to learn of temporary closures.]

Ahh, Morrow Mountain Trail at last!  A more moderate grade but still a test for me after a winter of sloth. I was glad for this training, feet conditioning, mostly mental conditioning. I pushed myself, and when I felt winded self-doubt tickled at the back of my mind - “you aren’t able to do this anymore” – but as soon as the trail leveled, I regained my breath and felt perfectly fine. BUT my right knee was achy especially on downhills and that did not improve. 

 
A brief stretch of Morrow Mountain Trail is covered in white quartz, gleaming like patches of snow on the wet ground. Bright green moss grew in patches within the quartz patches, presenting a pristine palette that left me in awe. A dreary day in winter woods – nature knows no such thing.

 
Near the top of the mountain, Morrow Mountain Trail intersects Morrow Mountain Loop Trail, a .8-mile level loop circling the summit.  I followed the loop, catching another muted view of the bodies of water below.


Again trying to get oriented, I did some back-and-forth traipsing as the Loop Trail crossed the parking lot and the road. GAIA was no help, nor was the signage, and my paper map lacked detail as well. Without topo lines, I couldn’t figure out up from down.   


Once I got my bearings, I sat on a stone wall for a snack break before beginning my descent. I must have turned off the GAIA somehow so from there my data isn’t accurate, but I remember noting that I had covered exactly 4 miles at that point. (Making mistakes aka learning the technology). I turned the GAIA on and started a new track.

 
Retracing my steps down Morrow Mountain Trail, I crossed paths with a group of Boy Scouts and their huffing-puffing leaders hiking up to the summit. I met a couple more hikers, all going up, but otherwise my day was solitary.  You wouldn’t get that at Crowders Mountain on a Saturday.

Almost back to the parking area, I took a turn onto Laurel Trail to see what it is all about. It’s a sweet little half-mile loop that runs alongside Laurel Creek, passes behind the rental cabins. (Did you know that Morrow Mountain SP and Hanging Rock SP have cabins for rent? Don’t bring your pooch, though.) Three deer hanging out by the creek reminded me of a car camping trip at Morrow Mountain SP when our children were in grade school. Our youngest was fascinated by the small deer that came so close to our site. Whew, I blinked and those kids are all grown up.

On the Laurel Trail loop I saw a turkey vulture fly through the trees and perch on a branch – never seen one in heavy tree cover before.  Such a massive, intimidating creature sitting up in that ol’ tree, dark feathers, red head, yellow beak, made my day – well, that and the white quartz and green moss. A colorful day after all!

Finished my hike by noon and the drive home went quickly, listening to my favorite music. Don’t know which is more therapeutic, the hiking or the music – probably both together. Glad I made myself get up and go this morning.

Forgot to turn the GAIA off until I pulled into my driveway. Still learning.


“Nature never hurries. Atom by atom, little by little she achieves her work.”  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson