Two Days of Total Solitude.

Some time back I had reserved two days to myself for an overnight backpacking trip. When the two days approached the weather report was for vile, lousy weather. Since I was going mainly to enjoy some leisure time and find some solitude this weather report actually looked better to me. If it was going to rain--and the forecast was for not just rain, but heavy rain--then there was the likelihood that few, if any other hikers would be on the loop I was going to hike.

The route I had set aside was similar to one I had hiked with other people some years back. My plan was to park at the fish hatchery near Looking Glass Rock and take the Cat Gap Trail to the Art Loeb Trail. Originally I had figured on taking an unmarked side trail to the summit of Cedar Rock Knob from Sand Gap and camp on the summit. But since I knew the weather could possibly suck mightily I had a backup plan to skip the summit and push on to the Butter Gap shelter where I would have a wooden roof over my head.

By the time I reached Sand Gap and began to climb the 300 or so vertical feet to the top of Cedar Rock the rain was coming down heavily and the atmosphere was like pea soup and the wind was gusting. I could hear the odd limbs crashing down to the forest floor here and there in the forest. So I decided that I should bypass the summit as my alternate plans indicated and instead I pushed on the couple of miles or so to Butter Gap where the shelter waited.

Once at the shelter the rain began to come down even harder. And by that time--despite my excellent rain gear--I was pretty much soaked. So I rigged some clothesline and changed into my long underwear (dry in my backpack) and hung my wet clothes on the lines inside the shelter. Then I set up my tent because there were a couple of small leaks in the roof and with the rain coming down as hard as it was I thought that some more leaks could develop and the tent would keep me dry. It was here that I saw the only person I encountered during the two days--a day-hiker doing essentially the same loop I was doing, but without a backpack and in one day instead of two.

After that I did the regular old backpacking deal. I got my tent comfortable, put the things I might need in the night close and handy (such as my headlamp), cooked supper, cleaned up, hung my food bag and then retired to the shelter to meditate. The rain was pouring down and the air was cool. Gusts of heavy wind would routinely blast through the forest. Limbs would hit the ground nearby, a couple of them actually just in front of the shelter. I meditated, thought about things, came close to doing some writing in the journal I'd carried along but ended up not even doing that. I just sat at the front of the structure, then lay in my tent and waited for it to get extraordinarily dark.

And it did. It got so dark that all I could sense was a sheet of purest black before my eyes. The world was essentially invisible to me. I had the sleeping pad under my back, my down bag around my body, the winds roaring outside the shelter, and the rain drumming incessantly on the roof.

It was cool.

As I sometimes do when backpacking I slept off and on, waking from time to time and then dozing off. Finally I was wide awake at a tad after 6:00 am. Even then I wasn't quite ready to fix breakfast and break camp so I waited for the sun to paint the gray skies with some manner of dim light and then finally got my motor running.

After breakfast it only took a few minutes to pack up and be on my way. My pants and rain coat had dried in the night but not my cotton shirt (stupid of me to wear a cotton shirt, but there you go). So I just wore my long underwear top on the final leg of the trip.

As near as I could tell from my map it was somewhere between 3.5 and 4 miles back to the fish hatchery. And almost all downhill. So I knew the miles would vanish, even carrying my backpack. Just past the shelter the Art Loeb Trail intersects with the Butter Gap Trail and I took that back down, intersecting once more the Cat Gap Trail that took me the final half mile or so.

Since it was raining very heavily off and on I had opted to leave my camera stored safe and dry in my backpack. Thus, from the shelter and on to the truck all I had to record the journey was my GoPro camera which I had strapped to my chest.

Despite how steep and slick parts of the trail was on the way out, I made very good time. Even stopping occasionally to view and make video of waterfalls along the way (there are a lot of waterfalls on that stretch of trail) I made extremely good time. By 10:00 am I was back at my truck and storing my backpack and camera gear.

Since the fish hatchery was locked up tight--even the rest rooms--I drove to the single toilet that was unlocked in the entire area at the Sycamore Flats Picnic Area and washed up and changed into clean, dry clothes that I had brought with me. When you've been backpacking in heavy rain and are that wet, there's nothing better than changing into clean, dry clothes and shoes.

After that I killed an hour just walking around, thinking, and then ate at a nearby restaurant that I like and drove back home.

It was a good trip.

The first bridge near the fish hatchery parking lot.

There are a LOT of stream crossings on the web of trails I took. Some have foot bridges. Some do not.

This dead tree had recently fallen across this campsite. I was tired and used the dead tree as a seat to catch my breath after several miles of uninterrupted hiking.

The Butter Gap Shelter. It's in poor repair and needs some fixing up. But it was still a hell of a lot better and drier than pitching my tent in heavy rain and howling winds on a mountaintop.

My tent and stuff inside the shelter.

My truck, waiting safely for me at the end of the trip.

Two days condensed into ten minutes.

Deadfall!

Whenever I talk to people who do not hike and who never backpack they almost always ask me if I'm scared of bears or coyotes or some other horrible animal that will attack me in the night and kill me. And the answer is always, "no".

The odds of being attacked by an animal are slim. Almost to the point of being able to statistically dismiss even the dimmest of possibilities where such things are concerned. Yes, I take certain precautions against even such an outside occurrence by not cooking in the same spot where I'm going to sleep; never taking any food into my tent--not even a snack; and hanging all of my food and heavily scented things (like toothpaste) from a sack high in a tree before I prepare for bed.

But there are a few things that I do worry about when I go backpacking alone. First and foremost is the possibility of being attacked by a human. This does happen to hikers and backpackers and almost always when they are hiking or camping overnight near a trail/road intersection. The kind of person who is going to do such a thing as victimize a backpacker is a lazy sack of shit and will only walk a short distance. Thus, I always try to camp at least several miles from the nearest road.

Then there's lightning. Lightning does kill people. You don't have to be hiking to be killed by lightning, but when you're outside, the great, gray dome of stormy weather overhead can be a threat. Whenever I hear thunder I know the possibility of a lightning strike is there and so I mitigate them by doing my best to stay away from high ground (such as summits) during an electrical storm. I will go down into a cove or gap and wait it out if I can (additionally being sure not to hunker down near a tall tree).

And that brings me to the one thing that I do actively worry about when I backpack. And that thing is deadfall.

When you're in a forest a respectable percentage of the trees are dead, dying, or growing in a place where a stiff gust of wind or saturation by water of the loose soil can bring it down. If you happen to be camped under such a tree it can fall over on you, or it can lose a stout limb overhead. And then it's curtains for you if you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The possibility of such a thing is rare, but it is one of the concerns that I seriously take when I am picking out a spot to pitch my tent before nightfall.

On this trip into the Pisgah National Forest I was travelling in mainly heavy rain, and during brief periods of gusty wind as bits of the front passed through. I saw limbs falling, and at one point in the night I heard a very large tree give up the ghost somewhere in the woods and hit the earth. Later, on my way out of Butter Gap I saw what was probably the tree I heard as it fell. It wasn't far from the shelter I used and it had fallen across the trail.

But even that--my main concern when I backpack--is less than the odds of being involved in an automobile accident on my way to or from a trip to the forest.

This tree had very recently fallen at an established campsite along the Cat Gap Loop Trail. Anyone under it would have been crushed like a slug.

I encountered a ridiculous amount of recent deadfall on this trip.

Cautionary information.

Backpacking in Torrential Rain.

I had set aside two days to take a backpacking trip in western North Carolina. After thinking about my options I decided on a loop from the fish hatchery near Looking Glass Rock that would use the Cat Gap Trail to take me past John Rock, near Cedar Rock Mountain, then to the Art Loeb Trail, after which I'd intersect and hike the Butter Gap Trail, meeting again with the Cat Gap Trail and back to the Hatchery.

The forecast called for heavy rain but I decided to go anyway, mainly because I knew that it would make the likelihood of finding some solitude that much more likely. And that is, in fact, what happened. I saw only one other person on the trail for the two days--a day-hiker who passed by the Butter Gap shelter where I spent the night.

I'll post details about the hike later. It has been a while since I've carried a 45-pound backpack over rugged terrain and my muscles are complaining. More after a night's rest.

The point where I caught the Art Loeb Trail. I really appreciate the well-signed trails of the Pisgah National Forest.

Initially I had planned to camp out on the summit of Cedar Rock Mountain. But I had told my wife that if the weather was too horrible (it was) then I would bypass Cedar Rock and head over to the Butter Gap shelter and stay there. It proved to be a wise decision.

Since the old shelter has seen better days, I decided to pitch my tent inside it to avoid the leaks from the decaying roof. This worked out well. If anyone else had arrived I could always take the tent down, but I suspected that wouldn't happen due to the incessant heavy rain.

Accidental selfie. I had set the camera up for self-timed shots, then realized I had forgotten my mini-tripod and put it down on my camera bag. Whereupon it went off, catching this photo. Pretty cool!

This was the second day toward the end of the hike. Cedar Rock Falls. I was so tired at this point that I decided to just take some GoPro video footage and leave my camera in my backpack. I really was just too tired to dig my camera out.

Wandering

Since Carole's health is pretty much back to normal I went on a one-day hike on Monday. I traveled up to the Blue Ridge Parkway and parked at Graveyard Fields where I wandered around that unusual high-elevation valley to see a couple of waterfalls and to drive up to the Shining Rock Wilderness trailheads to take some photos. After that I drove toward Looking Glass Rock to hike to the base of the cliffs where the rock climbers go to scale the mountain.

Briefly, that filled my day. I'm hoping to head back to the high country early next week. Maybe for an overnight backpacking excursion in the same general area.

Waterfall Bag List

One of my favorite hiking and camping areas of North Carolina is the area around the Wilson Creek National Wild & Scenic River. Much of it is not wilderness in the classic sense because the Wilson Creek corridor has a lot of private inholdings with houses and cabins and trailers sitting beside the river. And there is the main access road: Brown Mountain Beach Road, which is a wide, very well maintained gravel avenue to allow the large crowds that descend on Wilson Creek on summer and holiday weekends.

However, there is actual wilderness beyond the main creek. Wander just a little way off and you find yourself in deep forests, very rugged terrain, and often real solitude.

I ventured into the North Harper Creek Wilderness Study Area on Saturday, March 18 to bag two waterfalls I have wanted to see for a while. Neither of them are particularly spectacular falls, but they are pleasing and interesting, being long, sloping cascades rather than single-drop falls.

There are currently two wilderness study areas in the vicinity. Both are roadless, the main requirement for wilderness designation. However, wilderness areas are not popular these days with legislators and the corporate bosses who pull their strings. So it's probably a safe bet to assume that neither of these will ever make it into the national Wilderness Area program.

However, I did find some actual peace and quiet on this hike. I only encountered two hikers who were heading out as I was going in, and two mountain bikers as I was leaving who were illegally biking the trail, as it was posted only for foot travel. (Such folk should be shot on sight.)

I was able to finally mark this pair of waterfalls off my list. The last time I went to hike there for that purpose, I was halted from reaching the trailhead by a large tree that had blocked the Forest Service Road when it fell in the night. That day I ended up hiking to see some waterfalls that I'd already seen, so it wasn't a total loss. But on this day I made it in to see Chestnut Cove Falls and North Harper Creek Falls. It was a very quiet and relaxing hike, and I did enjoy some actual solitude for a few hours.

Man, it was quiet in there!

Chestnut Cove Falls.

Potholes on Chestnut Cove Falls.

Obligatory selfie at North Harper Creek Falls. I was there for over an hour and saw no one.

North Harper Creek Wilderness Study Area.

Trend, or Happenstance?

I went on a hike Saturday in the Wilson Creek area. I'll post some more details and more photos of the hike in a day or two. For now I just want to put up a couple of videos I produced of parts of the trip (not the specific hike).

Mainly, I took the hike to see a couple of waterfalls that I had tried to see a couple of years ago. On that trip I arrived right after a front came through, bringing very powerful winds. Those winds took down a very large tree that blocked the Forest Service road leading to the trailhead that I wanted to use. This time the road was clear and I arrived at the trail with no problems.

I do want to mention something that has been bothering me for some months. And that is the absence of pretty much all wildlife on my hikes. Now, I know that I can't see a bear or a mink or a bobcat every time I go into the forest. But for over a year I have noted that I am seeing and hearing almost nothing. It has been a while since I've even seen a white-tailed deer or a turkey on a hike. And those are two animals that have been common for me to encounter in recent years. The trees have even been absent bird song.

As I said...maybe it's just the luck of the draw. But I have found it disturbing.

I stopped along the road to take some photos and shoot some video of Wilson Creek from a nice vantagepoint.

After my hike I stopped to see the remains of one of the textile mills--all that remains of the town of Mortimer.

Old Growth Forest Video

I have spent pretty much the entire week being very, very, very sick. I didn't realize how sick I was at first because I thought it was just a bad bout with allergies. It was only after the misery became overwhelming that I discovered that I had a nasty viral infection in addition to the allergic reactions through which I was suffering.

Live and learn. Barely.

Well, here is a recent video log I concocted from an old bushwhacking trip into the Pisgah National Forest to see some old growth forests that live on the slopes of Mackey Mountain. Enjoy.

An old forest, showing off.

The slopes are like some gigantic sponge radiating moisture.

And big trees all around.

Water, rich earth, and amazing green forests.

Little Discoveries

A couple of winters ago I was hiking in an area of the North Carolina mountains called "Big Ivy". It's a heavily forested plot of acreage that is dotted with stands of old growth timber. I haven't hiked in there much, but I would like to explore it a lot more.

On that particular hike, on the way back to my truck, I passed a vast rock shelter. On closer inspection I found that I was not the only one to have inspected this spot. Apparently it's enough well-known and is sufficiently popular that people have built a rock wall at the lip of the entrance. I saw evidence of recent fires just under the overhang. Thus, any idea I had of ever camping there fled into the cool air. Not well enough hidden from sight for me, and too friendly to the locals for me to find any guaranteed peace and solitude.

Still, it was a nice find, even if I'm not going to try to ever camp there.

Plenty of big trees in Big Ivy.

Spruce to remind me that I'm in the really high country.

Giant rock shelter with artificial retaining wall.

Shelter and nearby water supply. But too familiar with the locals for my taste.

Pilot Rock: A Brief Hike and Photojournal

Early on Saturday morning I decided that I needed to get in a good hike before we went into Asheville to meet up with Carole's friend, Angel (with whom she works). There is no shortage of trails around the North Mills River Campground, so I had quite a lot of choices. Finally, I decided on the Pilot Rock Trail that would take me up the mountain toward the Blue Ridge Parkway. If I hiked all the way to the Parkway, then I'd come out at Pisgah Inn where Carole and I had stayed last year. But all I wanted to do was trek up to the first summit to see the cliff faces and take in the views. Then I'd turn back and head down to the campground to join up with Carole and Andy.

This is exactly what I ended up doing. The hike started out very cool and I had on my hoodie to keep me warm, but in quick order the air began to warm up and so did I. Stubbornly, I waited until I'd gained the first ridge before I stopped to shed the sweater and zip off the legs of my convertible pants. I even took some time to lie down and rest before walking out on the exposed rock to take some photos and shoot some video.

After that, I packed up my camera stuff and went back down the trail to my truck. One thing that got to me--and I realize it more and more as the years go by--is that I saw almost no wildlife. That is one thing about the southern Appalachians: they are beautiful landscape, and there are a lot of wild animals in the forests, but those creatures are generally very shy and rarely seen. This is in contrast to the time I have spent in the low country where animals are seen everywhere, and also out west where the critters don't seem to even make an effort to hide. This hike was not much different from many others I have made here in my native mountains. I saw no wildlife and on this trip I didn't even hear very many bird calls.

 

The trailhead.

A footbridge across a creek.

I love hiking through heath tunnels.

These forests are certainly not impressive. Logged time and again, made up of young trees.

It's always fun to come to the first view along a trail.

Spring has certainly arrived, even at 4,000 feet above sea level.

I was tired after the hike up and took a few minutes to rest.

The view that had been waiting for me.

The view from one of the small cliffs near the top of the ridge.

Looking across the wide valley at the opposing mountains.

This gnarly tree must certainly be very old.

The big mountains in the center on the horizon are the high country in the Shining Rock Wilderness.

Hiking in the southern Appalachians is a unique experience.

On the way down I paused to take a photo of the twisted trunks and branches of the mountain laurel that dominated the area along the trail.

North Mills River Campground

Andy, Carole and I stayed at the North Mills River Campground in western North Carolina for a couple of days. It's a National Forest facility that's administered by the Cradle of Forestry concessionaire. I've never been completely happy with how Cradle of Forestry runs our National Forest campgrounds and this trip was no different. When we arrived the campground host wasn't even present, and we had to remove garbage from our campsite (left by the previous camper). And we never did more than see the host as he was always busy staying in his mobile home or entertaining his friends.

Oh, well.

North Mills River campground is a beautiful place. The campground is situated five miles down North Mills River Road from NC 280. There's a nice Ingles Grocery if you need supplies (located at the intersection). Half of the campground is on one side of North Mills River and half is on the other side. I would recommend the half accessible by bridge as that is where the showers and nicer bathrooms are located. On the side we used there are only smelly pit toilets and a bathroom that has only urinals and no toilet! So we had to trek across the bridge and uphill to use the showers and better bathrooms.

There are no hookups so you need to fill your onboard water tanks and bring your generator. We like to boondock, so this was fine for us. We filled our 24-gallon tank and took our Honda 2000 generator. There are water spigots located throughout the campground if you need extra water.

If you like to fly-fish, this is the place for you. We saw many people who had arrived just for that. Apparently North Mills River is known for excellent trout fishing. Lots of opportunities for horeseback riding, hiking, and mountain biking. We saw many doing all of these, and I took the opportunity to hit the trails, of which there are many, many miles convenient to the campground.

Also, Asheville is less than 20 miles away, and the Blue Ridge Parkway is just up the nearest Forest Service Road (albeit via a 30-minute rocky ride).

Despite a lukewarm judgment on the campground host, we can recommend North Mills River Campground. There's plenty to offer for any camper and just about any kind of outdoorsman.

Our campsite (#4) at North Mills River.

Who doesn't like a roaring campfire?!

The view from an overlook on one of my hikes.

My son at Looking Glass Falls, a short drive from the campground.

Looking Glass Rock, from the Blue Ridge Parkway. Also not too far to drive as part of a day-time jaunt from the campground!

The bathhouse/showerhouse at the campground. Two bathrooms and two showers on either side of the building for a total of four of each.

Dreaming of the Mountains

Some years I have to endure long weeks that stretch into months during which I cannot find my way to the mountains to seek some peace and solitude. This year has been like that because I chose to preserve most of my annual leave for a month-long trip to Montana from August into September.

This has meant that I've had to stay close to home and have not been able to head into the high country. The problem with the city in which I make my living is that it is not convenient for trips to the mountains. The nearest area that I can reach that allows me access to good trails is roughly two hours of driving. So if I choose to take a day-trip I am faced with a minimum of four hours of driving, and I am not a big fan of driving. I find that I face so much stress on the drive to and from the mountains that the good effects of the forests and hills are cancelled by the chore of access.

But next week I have a rare four-day weekend and we have reserved a campsite in the Pisgah National Forest. So we'll be hooking up the newly refurbished Casita trailer for a trip to a nice, forested campsite where we'll be able to relax and I can do some hiking and play with the cameras and the new GoPro video again.

This isn't where we're headed, but similar. This is actually Hurricane Campground in southwest Virginia. We long ago decided that this was our second-favorite campsite of all time. We plan to return there someday.

Our setup that week at Hurricane.

I'll find a nice trail and hike into the deep forests toward a lofty summit.

 

And find some peace and quiet...maybe up in the clouds.