LITTLE PISGAH MOUNTAIN SCUMBAGS

For many reasons, there is relatively little public land in the eastern USA. This is an unfortunate thing, and becoming problematic as time passes. For many reasons, including habitat loss and the general irritations of urban sprawl, the lack of park and wilderness lands in the eastern USA is fast becoming a major issue for clean and healthy environment.

One reason it's a serious problem is for reasons of simple recreation. Public lands are just that: public. You can go into them to drive, walk, hike, backpack, camp, hunt, fish, swim, climb, boat, canoe, kayak, rappel, etc. and etc. and etc. Because so much the eastern USA was claimed by land barons and raped long ago, there's not that much public property here. Most of our land is loused up in the form of residential, industrial, and retail uses. There's just not a big bank of public parkland here on our side of the continent.

Here's a case in point as to what can, and likely will, happen when unusual natural features are left in the hands of private owners:

In 2008 I posted about a hike I made to bag a summit called Little Pisgah Mountain not far from Lake Lure. It's an unusually pretty mountain with some really wonderful views from the peak, despite the fact that there are the seemingly requisite radio and microwave towers fucking up the top of it. In addition, one had to road-hike through many parcels of private property to get there, but public access had been grudgingly allowed by land owners. Now, however, for whatever reasons, those same god damned land owners have now restricted access to Little Pisgah Mountain.

Screw you, landowners! I already climbed your fucking mountain! HAW!!!

Of course this is their right. But it shouldn't be so. Maybe some of them tired of seeing hikers trudging to the tops of their mountain. Maybe some of them got sick of having the road blocked by such people leaving their cars beside the road while they made the trek to the views. This may all be true.

However, since this mountain is such a nice place, and is covered more in forest land than not, it would be best if the Federal and/or state government declared eminent domain and just took the land from these greedy, self-centered motherfuckers. I don't really care if they were paid a fair-market price, or if the government just took it from them and kicked their sorry asses off and turned it into a state or federal park.

Oops! This view now only for the privileged!

This is the kind of thing that sickens me and it's past time that land like this was removed from private hands and put permanently into public ownership. Eminent domain: Let's have it!

Here are posts that I did for Little Pisgah Mountain back when public access was allowed, and when I was able to hike to the summit. Alas, those days are no more.

Why

I'm not a mountain climber at all. I hike. I do a little rock scrambling from time to time, and the most "dangerous" thing I ever do is bushwhack in wilderness areas. Bushwhacking, for those who aren't familiar with the term, is when you hike where there are no marked trails. As long as you go prepared, it isn't dangerous at all. But it's the riskiest thing I ever do when I go into the high country.

Occasionally people ask me why I hike up mountains. Wouldn't it be simpler and more fun to drive to the top of a mountain or stop at an overlook at a place like the Blue Ridge Parkway. Well, I don't ever say this to the people who ask me those questions, but the answer is "No. And you're an idiot."

I've been an avid hiker and backpacker since I was a young teenager. I took my first two-week backpacking trip when I was 15 years old. Since that time, except for a few years when I was too busy with a job or with family responsibilities, I've spent a lot of time going hiking, camping, and backpacking. It's been many years since I've taken more than a three-day backpacking trip, but I go often enough to keep my skills sharp.

Sometimes the effort of getting to the top of a mountain or to the lip of a gorge is really tough. Sometimes I even overdo it on the exertion, as I did this Sunday when I misjudged the slope and the vertical climb before me on my way to bagging Little Pisgah Mountain. In that case, I got a bit dehydrated, a bit too hot, and...well...I'll be 51 years old in four days and I just don't have the physical strength and stamina that I had even five years ago. I just plumb gave out and had to rest short of the peak. I'm gettin' old.

Standing on the summit of Little Pisgah Mountain.

But as for the worth of it. Yeah, the doing is the thing. But not just that. There's usually a grand view from the top of a mountain. And that's always worth the effort, no matter what.

One of the grand views from the top of Little Pisgah Mountain.

Ridgetop Housing, and Lilly is Growing Up

On the climb to the top of Little Pisgah Mountain we passed through several types of property. Some of it was private property. Some of it was private with conservation easements (thus the easy access and no worry of trespassing). None of it seemed to be completely public property, the lack of which is proving to be a more and more serious problem as time passes in this neck of the woods.

Little Pisgah has a number of towers on the summit. Common for prominent peaks in the eastern USA. Lots of radio, microwave, cell phone stuff. It's a bane of the southern highlands. You also run into folk building all sorts of vacation homes on these mountains. Generally, I loathe seeing these houses, second homes for the rich, which pock my Appalachian green heaven and which I'd generally like to see pushed over or burnt down.

However, on the way to the top of Little Pisgah we happened upon a particularly nice private home. It's situation below the main peak and sitting alone on a broad ridge looking out over the nearby peaks and over Hickory Nut Gorge actually charmed me. It also made me wish that the place could be mine. That had never happened before. I guess they aren't all blights on the landscape:

Quite the beautiful vacation home. I liked everything about it. And didn't want to crush it.

Lilly continues to grow. She's a great cat, as we'd hoped she would be. Lots of intelligence and personality and very affectionate:

Our Lilly.

The Idiots Abroad

Little Pisgah, the mountain that kicked my ass

I went to climb a couple of mountains today. Bearwallow Mountan and Little Pisgah Mountain.

Standing on the shoulder of Little Pisgah, the second of the two peaks, we saw what appeared to be a trail heading up a field that looked like an official trail. Jack and I were faced with a choice:

either the road on which we'd been hiking, or the trail that went straight up the mountain through the field. We, being idiots, chose the trail. It turned out to be a cow path. With ticks in the grass. And what we assumed was a 200-foot climb was, in fact, 500 vertical feet of 50-degree asskick. About 3/4 of the way up I had to actually lie down in the tick-infested grass to keep from puking in the hot, beating sun. At any rate, we made it to the summit. I rewarded myself for the hideous climb by eating pizza this evening.

Oy!

This photo is funny when you consider that I snapped it while lying horizontal to keep from puking, looking back down the ultra-steep oh-so-deceptively-soft-looking slope. The climb was not the 200 vertical feet we figured, but two and a half times that.