Sunday, May 6, 2018

Linville Gorge Loop


Linville Gorge Loop Hike – Conley Cove/Rock Jock/Linville Gorge/Babel Tower Trails - 6/2/17 – 9 miles


In a  moment of weakness I agreed to join a group hiking trip on the AT in New Hampshire and southern Maine later this summer, under the heading of “that sounds like fun while I am sitting here on the couch.” Those miles are considered the most difficult of the AT and I will suffer greatly if I don’t get off that couch! Time for some training work. I’ve been curious to explore Linville Gorge but have heard many cautions not to go alone unless very skilled at navigation (I’m not).  I’ve hiked along the eastern edge of the gorge a few times and have followed the Mountains-To-Sea Trail from the western edge down to the river and up the eastern side, but always with other hikers.

My trail buddy Cathy joined me on a loop from Danny Bernstein’s Hiking North Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains guidebook.  I trust Danny’s maps and narratives, but she would say that hikers should have other maps, a compass, and brains for any hike. This is especially true in Linville Gorge, designated a wilderness area with no blazes and minimal signage.  It is rough, rugged and…well, wild.  I chose to hike the loop in reverse because the last 2.7 miles is on the gravel road, and I figured we would want to trend downhill rather than uphill for the boring part.  My logic had good and bad consequences. 

I christened my new-to-me Honda CR-V on Kistler Highway - not as much clearance as my good ole Pilot, but it’s got to do the job or else.  (It did.)  Don’t tell Jim how eroded the “highway” was in some places. 

We parked at the Conley Cove trailhead. A half-mile in, we took a right onto Rock Jock Trail, which leads to rock outcroppings with outstanding views. We investigated several small paths on the left side of the main trail before turning back.

Shortoff Mountain across the Gorge.  The MST climbs up Shortoff and then traces along about two-thirds of the eastern edge before turning east away from the Gorge and continuing into Wilson Creek Wilderness.

Table Rock

Hawksbill

Put ‘em together

There are a number of viewpoints of these two iconic points from the western rim of Linville Gorge, all worth checking out. Rock Jock is worth the bumpy ride and a two-mile round trip hike, a little work to get the flavor of the Gorge. 

We backtracked to Conley Cove Trail, turned right and took the plunge down to the Linville River.  Late spring flowers peeked out at every turn.

Mountain laurel

Beard tongue

Spiderwort

Fire pinks

Galax

At the river’s edge we found a large campsite area and a sign for Linville Gorge Trail, but no signage for Conley Cove. Score one point for hiking the loop in this direction or we might not have known that Conley Cove Trail intersected here. 

Lunch by the riverside

After our break, we began walking upstream, i.e. steadily uphill, our pace slowed down by stepping over/around big rocks and numerous blowdowns that required thinking.  The trail narrowed and dropped off sharply on the right (riverside) with vegetation crowding on the left.  I joked that I would suffer a lopsided neck strain from bending to the right to avoid getting hit in the face by branches.

What’s in there, Cathy?


Okay, where is the Spence Ridge Trail?  It should be coming in on the right, leading to the water – a brief detour for us because we wanted to see the Spence Ridge Bridge. This is a point against hiking in the opposite direction:  I am terrible at interpreting narratives in reverse.  Even with Danny’s map, the turn to the bridge looked to be very close to the Conley Cove intersection, but it seemed to take forever to get to it.  Did we miss it?  Nope, here it is – and the bridge is gone.


More trail practice with blowdowns and rough footing.  The river was loud and often we caught glimpses of whitewater through the trees, but very few clear lookouts.  Several times we took steep side trails to the water’s edge to check out waterfalls and cascades – all beautiful.  If only the trail more closely followed the edge, but judging by the car-sized and house-sized boulders, it would be hard to do.

Trail?

 Hawksbill again

Is there a view from there?

Yes!


Trail conditions slowed us down to the point where time wasn’t an accurate indicator of where we are on the trail.  Danny’s narrative is not so detailed as to mention every campsite, etc. and we (I) continued to have trouble interpreting backwards.  Which switchback does she mean? Which rock overhang?

Apparently we missed where Devil’s Hole Trail comes in from the right – but, hey, there’s Babel Tower! We are still in the Gorge.


At the base of a steep section of short switchbacks, we felt that we had located ourselves on the trail.  At the top of the section was a trail junction – no signage at all, but we interpreted this as the Babel Tower Trail crossing the Linville Gorge Trail. 

We walked a short distance to see Babel Tower’s base, but time was getting late so we turned around to continue up Babel Tower Trail toward the parking lot – yes, More.UP.  This 1.3 miles seemed especially arduous.  We were keeping a good pace, no longer slowed down by obstacles, but my energy level was depleted. A lot of self-talk that this was excellence practice for the AT in Maine next month, and that although it was difficult right this minute, once we finished and I sat down, I would feel better.

We met a couple walking down, carrying only a bottle of water, and asked how far to the parking area (after all, we still have 2.7 miles past that to walk on Kistler Highway to get back to our car).  They had no idea how far it is or how long they’ve been walking.  Next we saw a couple carrying loaded backpacks. They had been out for a couple of nights and were also heading to the parking lot.

An eternity later (15 minutes) we reached the lot and started off down the gravel road, a relief to be walking a gentle downhill with no obstacles (my brilliant plan).  About half a mile later, the backpacking couple passed by in their car (driving to Conley Cove to get their second car) and gave us a ride – saved us two miles of walking. (Better than my brilliant plan!)

I share all these details to emphasize that no hike goes exactly as planned.  Sometimes it’s easier, but don’t count on it.  More often it’s harder in some way. Research routes before you go, read guidebooks, trail journals and descriptions (there are a lot of them out there) but don’t stop there because the information may not be up to date (ex. missing bridges).  Look at the official websites for where you’re going, see what their current trail conditions and cautions are. (Wikipedia is not enough!) Take more than one type of map if possible.  Orientation, map and compass skills are important – I should practice these.  I’m glad I didn’t attempt this hike alone, as I would have gotten rattled at missing trail intersections, the lack of signage, and not being oriented in time and place.

The U.S. Forest Service website for Linville Gorge is here.  (It notes the washed out Spence Ridge bridge and the necessity of a “wet crossing.”  The water is often much too high for me to feel safe crossing there.)

"The wise man knows that it is better to sit on the banks of a remote mountain stream than to be emperor of the whole world." ~Zhuangzi


Monday, April 30, 2018

Pisgah 400: Coffee Pot Loop


Pisgah 400 – Coffee Pot Loop – 5/19/17 – 9 miles

Our tandem biking adventure ended on a sour note with a car crash and the total loss of my beloved Honda Pilot that I had been nursing towards 300,000 miles.  Grateful that there were no injuries involved and that a rental car got us back to normal (?) as we mulled over options.  Haven’t had a car payment in 15 years…


A hike might make me feel better. I searched my maps and books for a remedy.  Pisgah National Forest was waiting on me to hike a loop around Coffee Pot Mountain from Danny Bernstein's hiking guide Hiking North Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains.

This particular Friday morning had a rough start: the rental car needed an oil change, and its constant prompts obscured the odometer, making it hard to track distance on the forest roads in an area of Pisgah that was new to me.  Driving, holding the map, watching the road, I felt the light touch of something run down my leg.  I quickly pulled over as a cockroach the size of a rat (exaggeration? I think not) popped out of a crevice and scuttled across the dashboard.  Wrestling to get out of my seatbelt and reaching to grab something (anything) to smack the creature, it disappeared into another crevice between the dashboard and the windshield.   It was still in the car and so was I – and I was not yet at my destination.

I got back in the car, continued driving down the forest road…the cockroach popped back out and came barreling toward me. Like hitting a ping pong ball, I smacked it with the back of my hand, sending it smashing into the windshield.  Again it retreated into the crack between dashboard and windshield. 

Gee whiz, I am not feeling like hiking right now.  But this car is not big enough for me and this indestrucible cockroach.

Pisgah NF continues to confound me with its confusing intersections, parking areas, blazes and signage placement ( or lack thereof).  Maps and written instructions just don’t line up with conditions “on the ground.”  Even using Danny Bernstein’s hike description, I began by walking half a mile in the wrong direction. When I reached an intersection that was clearly misplaced, I figured out my mistake.

Here was a decision point: Do I keep going and hike different trails or return to the parking area and start again?  The correct option was to retrace and begin again because that was the hike plan that I left with Jim – so one mile “done” before I started.  Back at the parking area I discovered that Trace Ridge Trail goes THROUGH the parking lot rather than beginning there, with trailhead signs on both sides.

I blame all of this on the cockroach incident.

Wrong way

But I did enjoy the mountain laurel

And the view

So let’s start over…and I still had difficulty finding the correct Trace Ridge Trailhead (go past the gate, walk a few yards on the road, then the trail jumps into the woods on the right – gee whiz again.)

Thank goodness the mountain laurel was beautiful here too

In fact, Trace Ridge Trail was downright gorgeous, a verdant arbor of mountain laurel at peak bloom in lush bunches like a bride’s bouquet. (Yes, I’m waxing poetic but those flowers were that awesome!)  I noticed that the blooms were white, almost no pink as I’ve seen in other areas. 

 
The trail curved almost imperceptibly around Coffee Pot Mountain. As the mountain laurel thinned out, the trail widened.  It’s a hiker/horse/biking trail, trimmed up high.  Three mountain bikers passed me going downhill, waving hello.  I like sharing with them because (A) they can get help fast if a hiker needs it and (B) no horse poop. (Note: it’s important to keep a head’s-up because they can pop up quickly.)

Trace Ridge Trail trended gently upward, effortless, and passed the Spencer Branch Trail on the left and Spencer Gap Trail on the right. From there, its personality changes from Jekyll to Hyde, very steep and rocky on its way to intersect the Blue Ridge Parkway – and how far is that?  About half a mile, felt like two miles, difficult to gauge distance because I slowed down dramatically. Let’s say far enough for me to be annoyed.


The hard work made me appreciate all the more the view at the Parkway. From Danny’s narrative: “At Beaver Dam Overlook, Trace Ridge is the nearest hump.  Behind it, the next ridge is Laurel Mountain.”

I descended back down Trace Ridge Trail and turned onto Spencer Branch Trail (now on the right), clearly a mountain bike mecca with its banked curves.
 
 
My stomach began to rumble, and as I slowed down looking for a lunch sitting log, I spied a white quartz rock, about the size of a car battery, with the largest component of mica I will probably ever see.  [Mica is a flaky mineral.]  Shimmering mica chips were scattered about like silver coins.

 
Spencer Branch Trail crossed FS 5097, followed its namesake creek until it flowed into Fletcher Creek at a wide crossing, then took up crossing Fletcher several times. Along that section was a little bit of everything:  a tiny shell, a fern kingdom, a moonshine remnant, and two lovely pink lady slippers.


As a reminder that I was still in Pisgah National Forest, I reached an intersection that I couldn’t seem to sort out, even with a map and Danny’s narrative (remember, the hiker has to do some of the work herself). Fletcher Creek Trail crosses Spencer Branch Trail, with trail signs at three sides of the intersection but none for the fourth. I wasn’t sure if Spencer Branch Trail continues straight, but let’s see.  Although only 2:00 p.m., the sky was growing overcast, making the woods seem darker.  I was feeling a flutter of heebie-jeebies at not knowing exactly where I was.  The trail came to a wide, ankle-deep crossing with a convenient (although high) log across.

 
Middle Fork Trail intersected in an open area that again had more trails than appeared on my trail map – I followed the faint yellow blaze with fingers crossed.  Then I uncrossed them long enough to greet this fellow traveler, a black snake that seemed confident of where it was going.

Beaver dam

Now below and on my left, Fletcher Creek flowed wider and faster with numerous miniature cascades.  Which trail was I on now?  Did it matter?  That darned map showed several trails running parallel and eventually intersecting.  So just go with the flow…

I reoriented when I reached the spillway for the old Hendersonville Reservoir

Even a man-made waterfall is appealing

Sweet shrub has intricate flowers that look a little spidery to me
  
At the spillway, a left turn put me on FS 142, closed to traffic (supposedly) and I enjoyed the mile walk back to the parking area, looking down on campsites along the winding Mill River, fishermen quietly casting and contemplating.  Along the way I encountered two men standing next to a pickup truck, fishing rods in hand, and I blurted out, “Oh, I thought this road was closed or I would have put my car up here, too.” They looked at each other and one shrugged, “Well, we know a little way around that.”  I said, “Have a nice day,” and kept on going. 

Well, my car was still there but I didn’t know if the cockroach was (I had left the windows cracked).  Thunder was beginning to rumble so no time for debate.  I took off my hiking boots, tucked my pants legs into my socks, put on my sandals for the drive home.  My passenger had either exited or died; no further critter encounters.  But it did rain cats and dogs.

SCUTTLE, scuttle, little roach—
How you run when I approach.”

~from Nursery Rhymes For the Tender-Hearted by Christopher Morley