Mt. Mitchell

View all photos of Mt. Mitchell

It was a day of highs and lows, physically and emotionally. I summitted the highest peak East of the Mississippi and felt even higher the whole way up, and of course at the top. Early on the descent I fell and hurt my foot, and then hobbled down 3000 feet, stumbling and shrieking over steep slopes of rocks and roots.

From the top of Mt. Mitchell, 6684 ft.

The official peak of Mt. Mitchell, the observation tower at 6,684 feet, can be reached easily by driving North up the Blue Ridge Parkway and walking .3 miles up a steep hill from the parking lot. This is a popular choice for plump, aging bikers wrapped in pleather, who can boast of their accomplishments with a picture in front of the official signpost, while wiping sweat from their brow (it was a steep hill after all).

Also from the top of Mt. Mitchell

Alternatively, you can hike up 3200 feet over 5.5 miles from Black Mountain Campground (not located in the town of Black Mountain, but so named for the range of Black Mountains, of which Mt. Mitchell is a part).  To get to the campground from Old Fort, you drive up 2000 feet over winding, steep roads. There was in fact a curve that I had to shift into first gear to round (meaning, I had to nearly stop).

Early in the trail

The temperature at the top of Mt. Mitchell can be 30 degrees cooler (than the campground, than sea level? more details please!), and the visibility almost never clear. When I woke up the temperature was 40 degrees in Black Mountain (the town, at 2400 feet; there is no weather station in Old Fort so I have to check there and add a few degrees). I checked Burnsville, which is near Mt. Mitchell and at around 4000 feet and it was 50 degrees. Huh? Whatever, so I dressed in layers and hoped for the best.

The trail has a nice mix of forest and open meadow

The Mt. Mitchell Trail trail head is shared with another trail, so when I arrived there at the same time as a family of four (with two young boys), I assumed they were taking the other trail. Nope. It was my fortune to run into a family of mountain goats so I didn't have to climb alone. I often worried about hiking solo, but today I was especially concerned due to the length and elevation of the hike.

We bonded quickly: these are the kind of people I could spend a lot of time with. Tagging along with the family was Eddie, a 50? some year old former neighbor of theirs from Virginia. They live in Durham now, but they miss the mountains and are here solely to hike Mt. Mitchell. The boys are 13 and 10, and they led the whole way, up and down.

Carrie resting at a stream crossing

Before leaving I tried to find some information about how long it would take to hike this trail. The fasted hiker I read about went up in 3.5 hours and down in three. We made it up in three hours and down in four. On the way up we were passed by someone running the trail, who made it up in 1:45. As much as I would like to, I don't think I'll ever be one of those runners. My ankles are groomed (or doomed) for asphalt.

Eddie is retired and has been for 16 years after he sold an internet company during peak years. He's a quiet man with a lot of great stories about his hiking adventures since. He has hiked the Grand Canyon 15 times rim-to-rim, and I told him I would love to accompany him this Fall on his next trip. October is the perfect time to go because it's gets really hot at the bottom during the summer.

Eric and the dogs

We arrived at the top to perfectly clear skies and visibility for miles and miles and miles.  And a dead camera battery. I presently have no pictures of this wonderful view, though my companions took a few of me at the top and promised to send them.

We made it!

There is a feeling in my belly that I'm pretty sure I've never felt before. I really am meant to be here; I'm not running from something as I've been told I was. It's simply an exploration and I've already found the gold. And luckily for me, the gold is not a limited commodity.


I had told Eric (the husband) that there was another, more "rugged", Mt. Mitchel trail. He had a nice map that he purchased at the campground and we found it -- the Black Mountain Crest Trail, ordained as the "most rugged trail in North Carolina".  This trail begins at the summit of Mt. Mitchell and heads North 12 miles among the various peaks of the Black Mountains, likely carved for/by "peak baggers", a term I had seen online but didn't know existed as a legitimate moniker for hikers interested in boasting of their 6000' plus hikes. I'm not so interested in boasting but I need to do that hike.

While Carrie (the wife) and the kids ate lunch, we chatted with a few of the many bicyclists who had ridden 35 miles up the steeply ascending, constantly curving, shoulderless Blue Ridge Parkway to get here. An extremely tough ride of course, but also a death challenge. Biker friendly signs are posted along the Parkway, but even a careful driver would have trouble bypassing a biker on a curve.

On the return I was at the rear of the pack, trying to plant feet safely but the group was flying down the mountain. Trying to keep up, I stumbled within the first mile, fell, and hurt my foot. I assumed it was just another twisted ankle like so many others, but several steps on it inflicted pain indicating otherwise. Carrie wasn't too far in front of me and heard me fall so she backtracked to check on me.

Coincidentally, Eric is a doctor, and even spent several years working in the ER. In one of their backpacks was a wrap for just this sort of occasion, but the boys and the backpacks were too far ahead to hear Carrie calling them. I hobbled along for a while until finally they returned; one of them must have eventually heard her.

It was my foot that was injured, not my ankle, and it was already swelling up. Eric wrapped it, and Eddie found me a walking stick, and on we went. I felt terrible for slowing them down and told them to please go on ahead of me, but they wouldn't. They didn't even know me, and they were willing to crawl down nearly 3000 feet and 4.5 miles or so of trail to make sure I made it down safely.

It was a long, painful journey. On every rock I turned the foot again, sending sharp pains up through my ankle. The injury was on the inside of the foot, so if I keep it turned to the outside, it felt okay. But it was difficult to do that on uneven trail, which is most of it. Four hours later we finally reached the campground; it should have taken about 2.5 or so. 

My foot is now resting, icing, elevating (soon to be compressed again). I sure hope it heals by tomorrow.

Dueling Waterfalls

View all photos of Catawba Falls        View all photos of Hickory Branch Trail Falls

I couldn't drag my butt out of bed Saturday morning. It was still overcast from a cold, rainy Friday and I had no hike planned so it was easy to put off a few hours while I indulged myself with past seasons of Army Wives on Netflix. Finally around 9:30 or 10:00 I opened a Diet Coke, leashed up Katie and walked down the road to Catawba Falls.

Catawba Falls

I originally heard about Catawba Falls from someone at Meineke who was getting his oil changed while I waited for them to wire up my camper. It was just opened to the public in March of 2010, so it is supposedly unspoiled by the hiking populous. You wouldn't know this by sight; herds of tourists from the campground had planted themselves at the foot of the falls, making it unpleasant for the rest of us.

Second river crossing - no biggie

The trail leading to the falls was level and easy with the exception of three river (creak) crossings. The first had a make-shift log bridge that made it fairly easy to cross, the second was calm and shallow with large rocks, but the third was no trail crossing. Prior to arriving there I had passed some elderly folks returning from the falls that were having trouble with roots on the current section, so I have no idea how they passed the river.

Hard to see here, but some other people on the third river crossing

The river had a long fat log most of the way across it. I wouldn't dare walk upright on the log because I have the balance of a drunk stilt-walker, but I could slide across it on my butt. The other option was to walk across the rocks, but some were under water and largely spaced and I was afraid of slipping. An additional issue was getting Katie across at the same time. She is a coward too, and wasn't moving from the dry trail.

Side view of Catawba Falls

 I decided on the slide maneuver, lifted Katie up on the log and slid slowly until I reached the end. While weighing my dismount options, a group was returning the waterfall and offered a hand off the log. I told one of the more experienced looking hikers that I was going to watch him cross so I knew how to get back, and he simply said, "well you just walk across the rocks, right?" And then he did just that, and I felt like a jackass.

The trail is just a three mile round trip so I after that I went to Curtis Creek Campground, a few miles North of Old Fort. Curtis Creek is a public campground offering primitive camping and several hiking trails. To make it a theme day, I chose the Hickory Branch Trail, which bypasses another waterfall. It's not nearly as impressive as Catawba Falls, but the hike was much more so.

Hickory Branch Trail Falls, peaking through the trees

The level of difficulty indicated at the trail head was "most difficult", which excited me because I had never seen that before! The beginning of the trail was "least difficult" until it reached the falls where it began to climb. It wound up the mountain on a mostly non-technical trail, though in parts it was very narrow and warranted "safety steps". 

Lower falls

I climbed and climbed, and eventually realized I no longer heard any water flowing. I must have passed the waterfall. I had seen only glimpses of it through the trees and I assumed the trail culminated at a nice viewing point like the one at Catawba Falls.

View from the top of Hickory Branch Trail

When I reached the top of mountain, the trail went left or right but was not marked as to which direction I should go. I chose left, and shortly the trail became overgrown and I assumed I had chosen the wrong path. I turned around and went most of the way back until I saw a trail marker for a different trail. So, I was on a trail, just not the correct one. I turned around once again, thinking maybe the trail went back down the mountain on a different route. After a mile or so it occurred to me that this trail could be 10 miles long and end up in another part of town and then I would be sleeping on the mountain. So, once again I turned around and took the original trail back down the mountain.

Slightly better view from the bottom

As I returned to the falls, I noticed a small side path that led behind all the greenery to -- voila -- a bunch of rocks from which to see the falls. I was so engrossed with the trail before I completely missed it.

One of many stream crossings

This was the day of stream crossings and by the time I finished this trail I was a pro. I can now hop, skip and jump over wet rocks and logs like a nearly sober stilt-walker.

Moving into the Camper

I adore Black Mountain, the house I was staying in, and Angela, my landlord/housemate whom I've really enjoyed spending time with. But today I am moving into my camper in a campground in Old Fort, NC. Old Fort is just six miles East of Black Mountain, but it is six vertical miles.

From Black Mountain the highway descends. I have a small Toyota Tacoma with a V-4 that has trouble climbing paltry hills and with a 2000 lb camper attached I can barely reach 40 mph on those. So I am going in the right direction. The grade of the descension is so steep that the truck speed limit (all but pickups and vans) is 35mph and they have provisions for runaway trucks (a stretch of dirt that you can pull off into should your breaks fail).  Adam, my ex-husband, put it into my head that when descending such a mountain my camper could swing around if the weight differential was incorrect. I checked it, but still feared for my life and drove 40 mph. 

Of course everything went fine and I arrived in Old Fort safely. I didn't really check out this campground before reserving a spot; they advertised on their website that they were the closest campground to Catawba Falls (more later), with wifi, so I signed up. The campground is several miles down a one-way country road (meaning no loop runs or late-night snack runs), but this place is fantastic.

It's a family owned campground and everyone in the family lives here. There is even a nail salon run by the daughter. They put me in a slot that is right next to the shower/bathroom/laundry/trash and general store so no long treks to the shower on cold mornings.

Camper, set up

Since I have never owned a camper, am mechanically disinclined, and have no tolerance for anything remotely associated with what might be considered a "task", moving into this camper could have been a horrible experience. The person who checked me in was so kind as to back my camper into the spot for me, plug in the electric, plug in the water, provide hoses for the fresh and waste water until I was able to purchase them, and crawl under my sink to tighten the valves that were leaking.

Right behind my camper is the Catawba River

My camper is parked next to the Catawba River; there are trees everywhere, traffic nowhere; I'm sitting at a picnic table now enjoying this beautiful weather. I can't believe I haven't done this sooner. 

Those are horses on the playground!

One of these horses just got loose! This is real time folks.

Got em!

Craggy Gardens

View Photo Album

It poured Friday night through Saturday morning, stopping briefly for an hour or so around 7:00am so I could go for a nearly dry run. Then it resumed for another couple of hours and was supposed to continue all day. I had no hike planned; I figured I would work for a while and then try to get the camper ready for moving in on Sunday.

Around 11:00 the rain stopped and the sun poked out a little here and there, and by noon the sky was blue. My day was saved! I had to scramble to find a suitable hike that wasn't too long and wasn't too far. I was having dinner with my landlord/housemate Angela so I needed to be back by 5 or 6.

Craggy Gardens is the hike I had in mind the first weekend I was here, when it was cold and drizzly, and as I was slowly climbing the Blue Ridge Parkway, not sure if it was open or closed, I turned around in fear after reaching the closed Craggy Gardens picnic area. Now it was a sunny, warm day, a month later into Spring, and when I reached the closed picnic area this time I knew it was because nothing natural in Asheville is officially open before May.

View from the Craggy Gardens Visitor Center

So I continued passed the picnic area to the Craggy Gardens Visitor Center where the trail head was located. Everyone in Asheville is friendly to the extreme, native or tourist. A nearby couple commented on the view and when I said I wished I had a better camera or better camera skills to capture it, they assured me that all cameras were the same and it would all be okay. Like a child the patronization worked and I felt immediately reassured.

View from the other side of the Visitor's Center

Two trails begin at the Visitor's Center: Craggy Gardens Trail and Douglas Falls Trail. I started with the former and was met with a creek for a trail. The heavy rains had literally created a creek where the trail was supposed to be. I stepped on as many rocks as I could but I would be going home with wet feet.

The "balds" of Craggy Gardens Trail

The Craggy Gardens Trails leads to the "balds", or natural green, treeless meadows at the top of the mountain. It's a short trail, easy trail (or it would be if it weren't flooded) that leads to the picnic area if you continue beyond the pinnacle. Near the picnic area is what looks like another trail so I took that and soon discovered it was not an official hiking trail, and with the stream-like conditions it was a horrible trail to navigate.

Viewing point on the Craggy Gardens Trail

From the Viewing Point

Eventually it joined the Douglas Fall trail, though, and the water started to subside. I followed this trail as long as I could before I had to turn around. It's 6 miles round trip and concludes at 70-foot Douglas Falls. The trail is a wonderful mix of uphills and downhills and I wish I could have finished.

Douglas Falls Trail

Lake James State Park

Today was a perfect Florida day with mountain views, fresh water and zero humidity. Despite heavy fog and cool temperatures at dawn the forecast was for warmth and sun. I woke exhausted and looked forward to a relaxing day, preferably by water with a book.

After a quick trip to Walmart for camper supplies (this would be my last week in the house), the sun was already hot and I had stripped down to a tank top and shorts before leaving. Lake James State Park is about an hour East of Black Mountain, and within six miles the highway descends 1000 feet back into thick fog and the temperature dropped about 10-15 degrees. The clouds lingered all the way to Lake James and continued to hang on.

From camping area, before the sun came out

 The park has a medium-sized lake and a few miles of wooded trails surrounding it so even if I couldn't sit by the water I could take Katie on some trails. We took one of the trails to the campground and around one side of the lake and suddenly the sun peaked out. By the time we returned to the truck to retrieve a chair and book, the clouds had permanently disbanded and it felt warm enough to remove clothes again.

From the main beach area

Closed beach area

After about an hour of reading we took the trail on the other side of the lake. This trail was a little longer (about 2 miles) and more formal; the other trail simply provided access to the campgrounds. It's a loop trail through the woods with a clean path. If it wasn't so short it would make a perfect running trail.

It's Sunday; tomorrow begins another long, dull week and I wanted to keep walking and walking and walking. I wondered what it would be like to discard all personal possessions save what I could fit on my back, and just walk (sometimes run, of course).  Students and retirees do this for six months when they hike the Appalachian Trail. Some who can't or prefer not to function in society retreat to the woods and survive on berries and snakes or something.  There must be a middle ground.

As the trail loops around we are quickly dumped back at the lake, which is fortunate because if the trail continued much longer I would have to carry Katie on my back. I have no idea what time it is because I left my phone back at the house, but the parking lot is fuller now. A family is picnicking under a pavilion and the three kayakers who arrived when I did were packing up their cars.

Main building (with OPEN restrooms!)

Mt. Pisgah Hike & NC Arboretum

Today I wanted to do a challenging eight mile hike in the Black Mountains but the weather forecast threatened thunderstorms so I opted instead for a short hike off the Blue Ridge Parkway, near the NC Arboretum and Bent Creek Recreation Area. If the weather remained nice I would have plenty of hiking options.

Mt. Pisgah is located about 25 miles south of Asheville. It's a short hike that starts at 5000 feet and climbs another 700 to a panoramic view of Asheville and the surrounding area.

View from the Mt. Pisgah Trailhead

The trail starts out nearly level with a clear path, but bare, broken tree limbs are strewn about, pointing in all directions as if a hurricane passed through. This makes me happy though because the sun shines through and breaks the rhythm of the typically monotonous Blue Ridge Parkway forest trail.

Trail Wreckage

Up there is where I'm headed

Shortly the trail starts to ascend and continues to do so until the top. Large rocks form much of the trail but they are easy to navigate, leaving no turned ankles in their wake.

From the trail

At the top of Mt. Pisgah is an observation deck from which you can see a nearly unobstructed view of the area. Unfortunately a TV tower blocks much of the view of Asheville (well I guess this is fortunate for TV addicts like myself).

TV Tower on Mt. Pisgah

Observation Deck on Mt. Pisgah

From the O-deck

From the O-deck

Near the trail head starts another trail that leads to the Mt. Pisgah picnic area and then onto Frying Pan Lookout Tower, which was a 6 mile round trip. Since the weather was beautiful, I decided to hike this trail as well. Mostly, I had to pee and there was a restroom at the picnic area. Of course the bathroom was closed, and couldn't find the trail that led to the lookout tower either, so I turned around and went back to the car where Katie was panting in wait.

At the other end of the parking lot, though, I noticed another trail called Shut-In Trail. Supposedly this trail was constructed by George Vanderbilt to connect his hunting lodge with the Biltmore house, all the way back in Asheville. I had never heard of this trail before -- did it really extend 25+ miles? The beginning of the trail was nicely upward but dark clouds were looming and since I had no idea how long the trail really was I turned around after a quarter mile.

View from Shut-In Trail

Before leaving the parking lot I spotted a couple more trails, both appropriate for Katie so she didn't have to stay in the truck. One was a grass trail that meandered along the ridge of the mountain and concluded above one of the tunnels on the parkway.

Finally she lets me out!

Over the tunnel and through the woods...

The other trail was a mile-long hike to the Mt. Pisgah Inn, a mountain top hotel and restaurant. After about a half mile through we turned around after taking the wrong fork. I was getting tired and wanted to get off the mountain before the thunderstorms arrived.

Katie, taking it all in

At the bottom of the mountain the the sun was still shining, and what I really wanted was to find Lake Powhatan in the Bent Creek Experimental Forest where I could relax and read. However that part of Bent Creek costs $5 cash and I didn't have any. So, on to the Arboretum.

The Arboretum is a 434 acre public garden, one of those places you're supposed to see when you visit Asheville. I have no interest in flowers or gardens unless they produce herbs for lamb or some other tasty meal, but the Arboretum has several hiking trails and I thought perhaps those trails might be among some pretty flowers. It may just be the time of year (still April showers...), but I saw few flowers and the hikes were through the woods. The trails were nicely padded with wood chips though and would make excellent running trails (it would be an expensive run though; $8 for parking).

To get our $8 worth, we walked the wooded trails until Katie's pace slowed to a crawl and her tongue dipped near the ground in heavy panting.

We returned to Black Mountain around 3-3:30 just as the storms were rolling in. The Black Mountains where I intended to hike were indeed black (or maybe a dark gray), so I'm glad I chose the other side of the city to wear myself out today.

Hiking at Montreat

View all photos of Montreat

Montreat is the next town North of Black Mountain and is comprised solely of the Montreat Conference Center, Montreat College, and 4000 acres of wilderness, including 13 hiking trails.

Since my hike last week along the Blue Ridge Parkway was easy, I chose Big Piney Ridge Trail, one of the strenuous hikes up Graybeard Mountain to Rattlesnake Rock.

The trail ascended quickly and almost immediately I was climbing straight up the mountain. The trails were not too technical though, so I didn't have to worry about tripping  or sliding except in a few places where large slippery rocks or batches of wet leaves impeded the trail.

View from trail within minutes of climbing

 The trail is short (only about 1.5 miles) but it took about 1.5 hours to climb. It was a cool morning, around 40 degrees, and partly cloudy, which created beautiful shadows on the surrounding mountains. The few mornings that it's been partly sunny while running I've seen these same shadows on the same mountains and wished I had my camera. It was fun to see these mountains closer now.

In a minute the light changes and the same view looks completely different.

Near the top is Rattlesnake Rock, which offers a view of Black Mountain.

View of Black Mountain from Rattlesnake Rock (about 3900 ft)

 The trail officially ends at the junction with West Ridge Trail, but I didn't know that so I continued on since the trail kept going. After a while, however, the orange blazes marking the trail discontinued. At first I thought I had just missed them but then I got nervous and turned around. I was at the top of the mountain; the only way was down, so I wasn't missing anything anyway.

Snow!

When I reached the junction with West Ridge Trail again, I chose to follow that trail back down the mountain instead of the one I had come up, obviously to see something different. This trail was unmarked as far as I can tell because I never saw another blaze for it, but I figured I was on the right trail because it looked like I was crossing the West ridge of the mountain.

View from West Ridge Trail

 Once the West Ridge Trail started descending it became a continuous battle to stay upright while sliding down the mountain. My ankles angled permanently at 45 degrees to help break the pace and at times I had to sit and slide. This part really was not fun. Hikers need an anti-ski lift to take them down the mountain so they can have more time for climbing.

At some point I started seeing yellow blazes, which I knew from the trail map was for Stomping Knob Trail, another strenuous trail, which looks like it would have been a fun trail to climb except for the fact that it never leaves the woods. Woods are pretty, but they get monotonous pretty quickly.

Descending down Stomping Knob Trail

The view from Stomping Knob Trail never changes

Finally I reached the bottom, but still had to walk about a 1/2 hour to my car. In total the hike took 3.5 hours.

Katie was patiently waiting for me in my truck and now I was looking forward to finally getting her out onto a trail so she can dig around in the leaves. I knew there was a trail at the rear of the Montreat Campground, which I had passed before, so we headed back there. The campground was closed, but we were able to walk around the gate so we continued up the path to the Rocky Head Trail. This was a strenuous trail as well, and not far into it I realized it wasn't such a good idea. When I was full of energy, I wouldn't have the agility to climb such a root- and rock-strewn trail with a leash in one hand throwing off my balance, so I certainly wasn't capable of it now after I had already been hiking 3.5 hours.

Rocky terrain of the Rocky Head Trail

 So we turned around and instead sat by a stream for a granola bar picnic.

After lunch we returned to the entrance of Montreat where lies the trail head for the Rainbow Trail and Gate Trail. The Gate Trail is a walking path that runs along the main street through Montreat and provides access to all of the venues within. This was a perfect trail for my energy level and would also allow us to see some of the building and parks I had passed earlier but didn't stop for.

Katie gets wet! She would never go in the water at the beach.

Montreat was originally founded as a spiritual retreat in the early 1900s and remains a center for religious conferences today. Montreat College is a Christian liberal arts college affiliated with the Presbyterian Church. The town is composed of these two organizations and their various buildings -- nothing else. There is no commercial development or even a street light, though it is an incorporated town with its own police force.

Montreat has its own man-made lake with dam

I knew what Montreat was before I went and was expecting to see suited drones pacing the streets like the Scientologists of Clearwater, but instead I saw children playing kickball in the baseball park and dads pushing swings in the large, modern playground.

This area is dotted with Christian retreats that maintain large acreage of buildings and parks and lakes where a couple times a year they host a conference for their members. It seems excessive but when not in use the housing facilities are rented cheaply as apartments or hotel rooms to anyone, and the parks are enjoyed freely by town residents.

With the abundance of mega churches and their costly architecture it's easy to dismiss these retreats as an extension of the same breed; yet I think they are rooted in the patronal virtues we associate with traditional religion.

This was a perfect day, the reason for my journey. It will be hard to leave this area.